Soul Seeker
by Aisling-Siobhan
Summary: HPDM Draco is a submissive Veela who can’t sense his Mate, because his Mate’s a Horcrux. Voldemort is finally dead, so why does Harry’s scar still hurt? Post DH no Epilogue. Full summary inside.
1. The Inheritence

Hey I know I was meant to wait until I finished THE LAMBS or INDELIBLE, but there are only four chapters of INDELIBLE left, an

Hey I know I was meant to wait until I finished THE LAMBS or INDELIBLE, but there are only four chapters of INDELIBLE left, and I have one of those written already. So, here is the first chapter of SOUL SEEKER.

The banner is by Emriel. There will be two more chapters set during DH, and then chapter four, etc. will be the AU parts.

"Soul Seeker"

**Disclaimer: ** Harry Potter, et all are property of JK Rowling, and Bloomsbury, and Warner Bros and all those other nifty people that make it so we can read and watch the Potterverse whenever we feel like it.

**Banner: ** Banner by Emriel – **zip . it . **

**Summary: ** HP/DM Harry didn't watch Severus die, so he never learnt that he was a Horcrux. When Voldemort was defeated Harry made sure not to get hit by the Killing Curse, and therefore a part of Voldemort's soul still lives on inside him. When Draco is freed of the Dark Mark, his Veela heritage starts to search out his Mate, but his Mate's soul isn't calling out to his own like it's meant to. Instead, the Horcrux is calling out to Voldemort's soul, and Harry's scar is still hurting. All is not well. Alternative ending to DH. No Epilogue.

**Warnings:** Slash. HP/DM: HP/George (minor). AU. Character Death. Violence. Language. Veela.

**Rating:** R/NC-17 SLASH!!

**A/N: ** I hope my post-series is original enough? I only ever did one Veela fiction and it was a one-shot, so I'm trying my hand at a longer version… Like I said, I hope it's original enough.

_XXX_

**Words: **4,917

**Chapter 1**

**The Inheritance**

June 5th 1996.

The school year had only just finished, and those who had completed their NEWTS or OWLs were free to floo home earlier than the other students, who had to wait until the Hogwarts Express left on the tenth. Draco Malfoy was one of those who went home early. Then again he had a good reason to be at home right then. The fifth of June was his birthday, and he was about to turn sixteen. While seventeen may have been the age of magical adulthood, sixteen was a very important age to those awaiting any creature inheritances.

For the past nine generations, the men of the Malfoy family had become Veela on their sixteenth birthday. Draco would be no different.

He was nervous, and slightly afraid, which wasn't surprising as he was about to go through a life changing experience. He was also relatively annoyed. Usually the Veela would be left alone with his parents or guardians. In this case, Draco had his mother, father and godfather with him, as well as an Auror. His father had been arrested at the Department of Mysteries a few nights ago, but because Draco was a Veela Lucius had been allowed to attend the transformation – with a chaperone.

It went against every instinct Draco had to allow this stranger to watch him change. But he didn't have a choice. Either Auror Banks watched, or his father didn't watch.

Draco frowned, and lay back in his bed, his head sinking into the pillows. "What time is it?" He was shirtless, and the covers had been kicked down to the bottom of the bed.

Narcissa Malfoy answered. "3:54pm, darling. Just a little longer." Draco hadn't been born till ten past four. Narcissa was tall and pale, with waist length blond hair and bright blue eyes. Her husband was a little taller than her, his hair inches shorter than hers but it was a paler shade of blond, almost white. And his eyes were silver-grey, the same as his son's. Draco was tall as well, not that you could tell with him lying down, and he had a narrower frame than Lucius, which indicated that he was likely a submissive.

There were two types of Veela: submissive and dominant. If you were a dominant male, then your mate was likely female, and vice versa. If you were a submissive male then your mate was generally of the same gender – but the Veela was the submissive because Veela could naturally bare children, no matter their gender. The men had both sets of anatomy. There were very few same sex pairings between women, although no one knew why.

If you were a dominant, the Veela's wings would begin to grow after the inheritance had begun, but if they were submissive, the wings wouldn't appear until the bonding was completed. The wing type was different as well. Dominants wings were as wide as a person was tall, and they were floor length. Their purpose was to protect their mate.

However, a submissive used their wings to determine fertility. If they were very fertile, the tips of their wings would turn silver, and if they were pregnant the tips would turn black. You couldn't get pregnant the first time you have sex because the wings wouldn't have left the submissive's back before orgasm. It was only after full intercourse that the wings appeared, and only when the wings appeared could pregnancy occur. The submissive's wings would be able to differentiate rape from consensual sex; if a Veela were raped the Veela may feel guilty but as the wings wouldn't have appeared they would still be considered pure. If they had sex with someone other than their mate, it was well within their mate's right to reject them and demand a new Veela from the Veela Council. These 'new' Veelas were usually submissives whose mates have died before the bonding, and where therefore still pure.

Usually both types of wings were white, but if the Veela were no longer able to bare children, or impregnate another, their feathers would turn grey. Draco rather hoped his wings came through now. He didn't think he'd be able to live with the embarrassment of having that Auror know he was submissive to someone else.

"What time is it?" He asked again.

Before anyone could answer, he arched his back. His mouth opened in a silent scream as he felt a burn along the curve of his spine. He rolled onto his stomach panting, and waited. He could feel his hair growing; like someone was pulling at it, strand by strand, and trying to stretch it out. When it stopped, his white-blond hair was brushing his chin. His back continued to burn, but it was a pain that was ignorable. It wasn't like how his father had described it. Lucius had told him that it felt like someone was cutting strips off of his own back then reaching inside to pull his wings out manually. But that didn't happen to Draco. When the burning had dulled to a faint tingle, he rolled back over.

He gave his father a shy grin. "So, I'm a sub then?"

He tried to sit up, but Lucius pushed him back down. "It's not over yet." Draco grinned as he lay back. This was the part he had been looking forward to.

During the Inheritance, the Veela always – without fail – caught a glimpse of his or her mate. They were soul mates, and the Veelas soul was pulled towards the soul of their other half. If the Veela was lucky they saw exactly what their mate looked like, and where they were. More often than not, they caught flashes of their mate's memory and facial features and were then left to work out the identity for themselves. Fortunately for the Veela, the mate's soul usually attempted to seek out theirs in return. Which meant that if the Veela were in close proximity they would feel compelled to approach that person, to touch them, kiss them. Like Werewolves and Vampires, who both had life mates, Veela were Soul Seekers; they had to seek the other half to their soul before they could be completely happy.

Draco's eyes fluttered closed and a small smile spread across his lips. He almost felt his consciousness drift away, but he wasn't so much focused on himself as he was on his mate. Draco tried to pay attention to what was flashing in front of him, but the memories were passing so quickly and he really wanted to skip to the end when he would see his mate. Draco caught sight of a dark haired boy running from a group of five bigger boys; a dark haired boy running up the stairs as a fat man shouted at him from the landing; a dark haired boy screaming as another man fell backwards through a black curtain.

Then the memories stopped. Suddenly, Draco could see him! He was right there, close enough to touch. Draco allowed one of his hands to move forward, aiming for the mop of raven hair, wanting desperately to run his fingers through the silken strands. As the fingers touched, the other boy danced out of the way and gave a throaty laugh.

"It won't be that easy, Malfoy." The boy said and Draco was sure he recognized that voice. It was so familiar. Draco waited for him to say something else, but the boy didn't. Familiar green eyes stared back at him, sparkling in amusement, behind glasses. Draco knew those glasses; he spent many hours complaining about how ugly they were, but he couldn't remember whom they belonged to. He couldn't make out anything else about his mate either; just the colour of his hair and his eyes.

"Who are you?" Draco breathed out softly, reaching for his mate again. His heart was pounding furiously, but Draco didn't feel as if someone was tugging it from his chest like his father had described.

"I thought you were supposed to figure that out yourself?" Harry Potter grinned at the blond. Harry wasn't really there of course; he wouldn't know anything about Draco's dream, or about being Draco's mate for a long time. But just like in real life, he was proving to be a pain in the arse.

"I demand you tell me who you are!" Draco crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. Harry leant forward, and Draco's eyes fluttered closed as Harry pressed his lips to Draco's. They were soft and warm, but Draco's couldn't taste them. "I can't feel you," he whispered, pulling back. His heart wasn't beating as fast anymore. He opened his eyes but his mate wasn't there any more.

His mother looked down at him. Her eyes were wide and she was wringing her hands in front of her stomach. Draco wiped at his face and pulled back his hand, realizing it was wet. "Dragon?" His godfather asked. Severus Snape was one of his professors and his Head of House as well. He wasn't a very nice man, but he was kind to Draco and Draco's family.

"I can't feel him." Draco's voice hitched at the end, turning the word into a small sob. "I can't-" His hand clamped over his mouth before he could finish the sentence. His Veela didn't want to admit it out loud or hear it said. Draco had seen his mate so his mate must exist. There had to be a logical reason why he couldn't feel his mate's soul calling out to his own. But logic wasn't something a love sick Veela possessed, and when his mother reached out to touch him, Draco burst into tears. He didn't even care that Auror Banks was still in the room.

_XXX_

June 12th 1996.

Draco had spent the last week desperately waiting to feel his heart leap into his throat, or for his head to get dizzy as more flashes of his mate assaulted his memory. But nothing came. Narcissa tried reassuring her son that there was nothing wrong with him. He had a mate. He had seen a mate.

"Maybe it's because your mate is younger than you? A lot younger?" She had suggested. After all Veela mates had to be at least fifteen before their soul could call out to a Veela. "You may have to wait a few years, love, but your mate will come."

What neither of them knew, was that Harry's soul was too busy fighting off the piece of Voldemort's soul that had lodged in his scar to call for Draco. As long as Harry was a Horcrux he wouldn't be able to enter into a soul bonding, nor would he be able to seek out his soul mate.

"Maybe," Draco said quietly. He looked down at the paper clenched in his hands and frowned. "I wish father was still here."

The headline read: Death Eaters captured at Ministry. Harry Potter was right all along! You-Know-Who is back!

"You know he can't be." The moment Draco had calmed down after his inheritance, Auror Banks had demanded Lucius return to the Ministry holding cell.

"It's all Potter's fault." Draco snarled, throwing the paper into the open fireplace. He watched the pages burn and tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted into knots. "I hate Potter. I just wish he would die!"

"Draco!" Narcissa scolded.

Draco's eyes watered, and he had to press a hand to his mouth because he was afraid he might throw up. When he stopped feeling ill, he said, "if he wasn't here everything would be ok." Narcissa watched as a tear made its way down Draco's cheek unnoticed, but she didn't say anything. She had a slight idea who Draco's mate was but, since she didn't know why he wasn't reaching out to the Veela, she didn't say anything. Draco's arms wrapped around his stomach and chest. His heart hurt, ad his stomach felt like someone had just sucker punched him, but he didn't know why. He just figured it was one more thing to blame Harry for.

The fireplace suddenly sprung to life and Bellatrix Lestrange's face appeared in the flames. "Draco, the Dark Lord has summoned you. Make haste."

Draco jumped out of his chair. Narcissa stood up as well, slower and calmer than her son, though her heart was beating its way out of her chest. She didn't want Draco to be a Death Eater; she didn't want Draco punished for Lucius' mistakes. Draco ran from the room. When he was in the hallway, he leant back against the closed door and took several deep breaths. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't think he'd ever be ready for this. But it was time.

"Blinky!" He called. A house elf appeared before him, bowing low so its nose touched the ground by Draco's foot. "Fetch me a plain black robe. Hurry." The elf disappeared and returned, holding out the robe. Draco grabbed it without thanks, and shrugged off the one he was wearing. Blinky picked it up off the floor. Draco pulled on the black robe and buttoned it up. With one more deep breath, he pulled the hood up shielding his face, and entered the study again.

"Aunt Bella, Mother," he greeted. "I'm ready."

Bellatrix's face left the fireplace, and Narcissa grabbed the pouch of floo powder off the mantle piece. "You first Dragon." She held it out to him and he grabbed a fist full before throwing it into the fireplace and calling out the destination. He stepped into the green flame and left. Narcissa followed suit, calling "Riddle Manor" before the flames twisted around her, pulling her to her destination before burning themselves out.

The room they arrived in was empty except for Bellatrix, but she led them to a room that was filled with Death Eaters. Lord Voldemort sat upon a throne at the front of the room, directly opposite the door they had entered through. Draco's first instinct was to glare the other man down, to force him to lower his eyes first, after all a Malfoy submitted to no one. Only, he was a submissive wasn't he? And his father bowed to this man.

_And look where it got him_, the Veela in him cried.

'That's Potter's fault,' Draco thought back, ignoring the shriek the Veela-half of his subconscious made.

Draco looked to his mother's lead. She waited until she was directly in front of the Dark Lord before dropping to her knees, her forehead touching the floor. Draco copied her. He wanted to look at Voldemort, to see what kind of person he was following, and to understand what it must have been like for Harry. He was too afraid though, so he waited until he was addressed before he even twitched.

"Draco, look at me," the voice demanded. It was a strange hissing sound, half human and half snake, Draco thought but he didn't mention it. He slowly raised his head, still kneeling, and let his eyes fix on Voldemort's chin. He wasn't brave enough to meet the crimson eyes of the man he was pledged to follow.

What he could see of the Dark Lord's face was unattractive. Pale, transparent skin stretched over bone, a lipless mouth and two slits on his face instead of a nose. He didn't look higher than that, but he could guess the man was hairless.

'No where near as attractive as my mate,' Draco mused silently.

"Draco," Voldemort hissed quietly. "Look at me." Draco took in the hairless head, and the lack of eyebrows. This time he looked above the man's eyes, instead of below them. "Look at me." He repeated, "or do I dissatisfy you?" There was a touch of anger in that last statement and Draco hurried to do as he was told. He met the red gaze full on, and tried not to flinch at the emotionless stare of the other man. "Hold out your left arm."

Draco held his arm out, using his right hand to push the sleeve up above his elbow. He watched as Voldemort touched the yew wand to the white flesh of his underarm.

"Do you wish to serve me?" Draco couldn't make himself speak, so he nodded. As a Veela he was meant to be loyal to his mate and his mate alone, but he was too afraid not to swear allegiance to the Dark Lord. "You will have to prove yourself. Do you know the identity of your mate?"

"Not yet, my Lord." Narcissa answered, as Draco remained silent. "Complications have arisen regarding the age of my son's mate."

"I see," Voldemort said even though he really didn't understand the complexity of Veela mating. "You will complete one task for me Draco." Draco hated how Voldemort assumed he could be so familiar with him. "I wish for you to find the Room of Hidden Things in Hogwarts. One of the house elves will lead you to the correct floor. Inside you will find a Vanishing Cabinet; it is one of a pair. Mr Borgin has the other. You will demand he fix it, and pay him for his services. Then you will fix the Cabinet in Hogwarts yourself. When you are complete you will call for us."

"Understood." Draco whispered, "my Lord."

Voldemort smirked as his wand pressed painfully into the soft skin of Draco's arm. The boy tried not to cry out as Black Magic burnt itself onto him. The Dark Mark was a faded grey colour when Voldemort pulled his wand away.

"You have not yet proved yourself, boy." In truth, Voldemort didn't want to waste his magic or time branding a servant who was sure to fail. Failure meant death as far as Voldemort was concerned.

Draco bowed again. He had remained kneeling as he was half-marked, but now he pressed his forehead to the floor. He remained like that for the rest of the meeting because Voldemort didn't tell him to stand up, and he was too afraid to get up without being told. At one point he heard someone being dragged into the room. A few seconds later they began screaming but Draco didn't try and look at them. He was terrified that if Voldemort noticed him watching he'd be forced to help torture the man.

Draco might not know his mate was, but he knew they'd be disappointed in him for being a Death Eater.

_XXX_

July 31st 1996.

It was Harry Potter's birthday. Most everybody in the Wizarding World knew this, and most people sent him cards and presents though Harry had never received any of them because Albus Dumbledore preferred not to bombard the boy with his fame or his admirers.

At present, Draco was fast asleep after an eventful day shopping in Diagon Alley. He had run into the Weasleys, Granger and Harry himself. He had also shown his half-mark to Mr Borgin, and he rather hoped no one else had been hiding in the bookshop at the time. When Harry had been in the robe shop with him, his arm had just suddenly flared up, throbbing and burning as if he were being called. But he wasn't. He knew he wasn't. The mark turned a darker shade of black when you were being called, and it felt like your arm was about to drop off. It didn't hurt that much when Harry was around, but it was uncomfortable. A bit like his back. When he had brushed past Harry on his way out of the shop his back had started tingling again, like it had done during his inheritance.

It was disconcerting, so Draco tried to pay it no mind.

As Draco slept, his mate came to him. It wasn't his actual mate of course, but he still dreamed of the blurry figure with jet hair and piercing green eyes. He wasn't wearing his glasses this time, and he seemed to be squinting at Draco.

"I can't believe you did that." He was looking at the half-mark that was easily seen, as Draco wasn't wearing a shirt.

"What was I supposed to do?" He wished he had wings so he could wrap them around himself comfortingly. Either that, or he wished his mate would take him into his arms instead. Harry didn't speak. "Who are you? Please tell me; I need you."

"I can't. I don't even know I'm your mate, remember? You're dreaming." Harry smiled, brushing his fringe away from his forehead.

Draco squinted. There was something there, on his mate's forehead. A mark of some kind: a tattoo? A scar? He stepped closer, but Harry dropped his fringe and hid his scar again. "It won't be that easy." Harry repeated just as Draco woke up.

He rubbed his forehead, frowning at the throbbing pain just above his right eyebrow. He traced the pain with his little finger. It throbbed in a certain pattern, as if someone had drawn something on his forehead with a knife. It was in the shape of a lightening bolt. "Bugger that," he muttered as he rolled over and went back to sleep. He had a mate to find; he didn't have time to be thinking about Harry Scar-Head Potter.

_XXX_

September 2nd 1996.

Harry's whole face throbbed, even after Madame Pomfrey had healed his nose. He had gone to bed, on the first night back at Hogwarts, cursing the existence of Draco Malfoy. He couldn't believe the boy had stomped on his face and broken his nose. Then Malfoy had the audacity to leave him on the train, under an invisibility cloak, and try and send him back to Platform 9 and ¾. It was unbelievable. He was infinitely glad that Tonks had found him.

He shifted in the bed, trying not to lie on his stomach because it made his face touch the pillow and that hurt. He was asleep and had been since he lay down. Even as he dreamt he could hear Ron's snoring from the bed beside his.

He didn't know where he was. Only that when he fell asleep he woke up here. He knew, intellectually, that he was dreaming, but it had worried him for a moment. He had thought that maybe Voldemort had portkeyed him out of Hogwarts again. If that was the case, then he'd been kidnapped, and was now stuck in the company of Draco Malfoy. Well, he thought that until he realized that Malfoy had wings. It couldn't be anything but a dream now.

"What do you want Malfoy?" He sneered and fingered his wand.

Draco merely smiled at him. The smile made his entire face brighten and Harry felt his heart catch in his chest. "I've missed you." Draco whispered as he walked towards Harry with his arms held out.

Harry took Draco's hands, and Draco pulled Harry closer. He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and smiled again. "Kiss me, Harry." There was nothing Harry could do to stop himself. He felt as it someone had placed their hand on the back of his head and forced his face down until his lips met Draco's. The kiss seemed to go on forever, and Harry's traitorous mind decided he liked it much more than the kiss he shared with Cho Chang.

Draco suddenly pulled back with a scream. His grey eyes were wide with fear as some sort of black fog wrapped itself around his wings, pinning them to his back. Harry looked around, trying to find the source of the fog before realizing it came from him. The fog was leaving his scar, which had split open without him noticing. It was choking Draco now, covering him entirely so all that Harry could see was those terrified eyes. Harry didn't move to help him; he was much too shocked. By the time he had snapped out of his daze, the fog and Draco were gone. In Draco's place was the sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, with a lightening bolt scar on his forehead.

"**Harry Birthday, Harry**." He hissed in Parseltongue.

Harry jerked awake with a gasp, reaching up to rub at his throbbing nose before realizing it was his forehead that hurt. His hand came back bloody. "Fucking Malfoy," he muttered as he reached for a tissue.

"Wha's that mate?" Ron slurred, still half asleep.

"Nothing." Harry called back, cleaning his face. He lay back, trying not to think about Draco with wings, or Tom Riddle, or kissing. Unfortunately, he still spent the rest of the night dreaming about kissing Draco Malfoy, who had wings.

_XXX_

June 5th 1997.

It had been a whole year since his inheritance, and Draco still hadn't felt his mate's soul calling out to his own. He sometimes wondered if he was being punished for being a bad person. Maybe he had been cruel to his mate – they could have been a Hufflepuff – and the Veela Council were keeping them apart to punish Draco. He rather hoped not, but it was hard to be as optimistic as his mother was about all of this. After all, his mother was already mated to his father. Draco was the one all alone.

It didn't matter anyway. They were leaving Hogwarts soon, but fortunately he had finished fixing the Vanishing Cabinet earlier that day. He'd call the Death Eaters tonight.

He was patrolling the halls, as was a part of his Prefect duty. He took particular pleasure in breaking up romantic moments between couples. Feel free to call him bitter. At present he had just happened upon the youngest Weasley with another boy. He had caught her four times this term alone; mostly with that Mudblood Gryffindor boy. Thomas something, or was his surname Thomas?

But this boy wasn't Thomas. He was white, for one, and his hair was a lot messier. Draco sneaked closer, and nearly gasped. Ginny Weasley was snogging Harry! His Harry. He shook his head, dispelling that thought. Harry wasn't his. Harry was nothing to him.

He suddenly felt as if someone had punched him again, and had to lean against the wall to stop himself from falling down. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for sickly displays of affection." He drawled, quite successfully masking the pain he felt at watching them together.

Draco's eyes narrowed as Harry met his gaze defiantly. Harry pushed Ginny off of him; she pouted and glared at the blond. Draco tried not to flinch at the look Harry was giving him. It was as if he was some sort of insect that wasn't worth Harry's attention, and he felt like crying when Harry didn't respond verbally and instead turned to face the girl.

"Sorry," he said with a soft smile.

"It's ok. I'll see you tonight?" She asked and Draco bite his tongue to stop himself from interrupting. He wanted to know what Harry would say to the invitation.

"Sorry. The Headmaster and I have to do something tonight." Ginny shrugged, leant up to kiss Harry lightly on the lips and then she walked away. Draco felt a growl bubble in his throat but Harry spoke before he could let it out. "What ever issues you have with couples, get over them. Merlin, I wouldn't be surprised if you never find some poor bint to marry you, and you end up all alone."

Draco gasped and backed away slightly. His eyes were wide and tears welled in them as he thought about what Harry said. His Harry thought he deserved to be alone forever. Maybe that was why he didn't have a mate? He sniffed and rubbed his nose with his sleeve. He tried to compose himself, but realized he was failing at it. So instead he turned and ran away. Harry watched him go, and for the first time ever after one of their fights, he felt like the bad guy. His heart actually hurt as he heard Draco crying as he ran away.

XXX

August 1997.

He had stayed for his birthday, and he had stayed for Bill and Fleur's wedding. But he couldn't stay any longer. He had to go find the rest of those Horcruxes. The sooner he found them all and destroyed them the sooner he could kill Voldemort.

And then he could keep his promise to Ginny.

Ginny was waiting for him to come back so they could be together. He smiled as Ron and Hermione came up behind him. Both of them were packed and ready to go. He thought about the kisses he shared with Ginny and the way her hand felt in his as he held her during Dumbledore's funeral.

Later that night, as they lay down to sleep, Harry closed to his eyes and tried to remember the last kiss he had with Ginny. But instead of seeing a red headed girl, he watched himself kiss a blond boy with wings.

He enjoyed that kiss a lot more than Ginny's or Cho's. Even though the thought should have made him feel horrified or disgusted, it didn't. Instead, it brought him a sense of peace, and Harry had the best nights rest that night than he had had all year. When he woke, he didn't think of either Ginny or Draco. Instead he focused entirely on the Horcruxes. He needed to find the Horcruxes so he could defeat Voldemort. And then he could go home to whoever was waiting for him.

A part of his heart told him it wouldn't be Ginny.

**XXX**

I hope you enjoyed… Please leave a review and stick around for the next chapter.

I'll do BROTHERS 3 next. Promise.


	2. One At A Time

I know this chapter is well overdue, considering I've already finished Indelible but I really didn't want to do this chapter…

I know this chapter is well overdue, considering I've already finished **Indelible** but I really didn't want to do this chapter…

Who else hates the Horcruxes? I have nightmares about them, I swear. Goddamn long chapter.

**Words: **6,340

**Chapter 2**

**One At A Time**

August 3rd 1997.

_June 28__th__ 1993._

_The Basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was true. Harry threw his whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth. _

_Harry felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be swimming. _

"_So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice. _

_If this is dying, Harry thought, it's not so bad. Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound – except there was no wound. _

"_Phoenix tears," said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. "Healing powers_…_ I forgot." _

_Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap – the diary. Harry seized the Basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing._ **1**

The journal had emitted a blinding white light as Tom screamed. The fragment of Voldemort's soul had disappeared along with the light but when Harry woke up he could still see it. The blinding whiteness, the glare of the light that made him wince and have to close his eyes, and he remembered the screaming as well.

It was the sort of scream that made you want to cover up your ears and pray that you never had to feel pain like that in your life. But Harry didn't pity Tom. At the time he had been too worried about Ginny. Poor, young Ginny who was lying only a few feet away at the time, slowly gaining consciousness with every second that Tom was screaming.

She had loved him, Harry remembered, but he had not loved her, not then.

But he did now. He knew he loved Ginny now. Everything he did was for her, and her family and his friends. He fought for the people he loved. So why was it, in the middle of his dream, just before he plunged the Basilisk fang into the diary, when he looked away from Tom he didn't see Ginny? Instead, he saw Draco Malfoy lying on his stomach in her place. Draco was pale, his lips were blue and his wings had been hacked off.

The imaginary sight terrified him far more than the remembrance of Ginny, pale and unmoving, years ago in the real Chamber of Secrets.

Harry didn't want to think about the 'whys' of his dreams because he knew that they were mostly nonsense. Though Hermione used to say that dreams were a persons inner most desires broadcast through the subconscious so that a person could realize what it is they truly wanted. Harry snorted.

It was too early for Harry to wake Hermione or Ron, so he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. As he was drifting off he suddenly thought about whether his dream meant he wanted Malfoy to have wings so he could hack them off or whether he just plain wanted Draco Malfoy.

_XXX_

August 4th 1997 – Just after Bill Weasley's wedding.

He hadn't found any of the Horcruxes yet. None that hadn't already been destroyed at any rate. It was rather frustrating, Harry thought, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He had promised to stay around for the wedding, and he had. He stayed and attended the wedding and Death Eaters had crashed the wedding.

He, Hermione and Ron were hiding out at Grimmauld Place at present. Harry's head was throbbing, a persistent pulsing behind his scar that was making his eyes water up. He tried to ignore it, but it was like resisting the urge to be sick. Eventually he had to excuse himself from the conversation. Hermione had protested of course but he had managed to escape the room, and lock the bathroom door after himself. He leant back against the wall.

His legs gave out and he crumpled to the floor, his hands clutching his forehead as rage that wasn't his coursed through him. He was blinded by another's hatred and anger and it was all Harry could do not to scream out or curse someone.

The blond Death Eater that had attacked them in the café earlier was on the floor, screaming and writhing as Voldemort smirked, standing above him. "More, Rowle, or shall we end it and feed you to Nagini?" Voldemort hissed, his red eyes glaring down at the other man malevolently. "Draco, give Rowle another taste of our displeasure."

Harry's eyes moved to fix on Draco, but they were red, and staring from out of Voldemort's head. Draco flinched and hesitated. That only angered the Dark Lord more. "Do it, or feel my wrath yourself!"

Draco raised his wand, and Harry couldn't bring himself to look away from the gaunt, pale face that now haunted his dreams. Draco's hand shook as it held the wand towards Rowle. His voice quivered as he whispered the spell, and he winced as the Death Eater began to scream. Harry finally managed to close his eyes, his face turned away from the horrifying sight. When he was finally able to open his eyes again he was lying face down on the bathroom floor, spread eagle, and he felt sick to his stomach.

Hermione knocked on the door before he could compose himself fully. When she asked him if he wanted his toothbrush, Harry answered her, and his voice sounded as if he had been the one being tortured. It trembled and he had to clear his throat twice before he finally got out, "yeah, great, thanks," but he made no move to stand up or open the door. Instead he lay back down, pressed his face to the cold bathroom floor tiles and tried not to think about how shitty Draco's life must be, having to actually live with Voldemort.

_XXX_

August 23rd 1997.

"That's pretty, Delores," Hermione said as she pointed to a necklace half hidden by the woman's blouse. At the moment, Hermione was pretending to be another witch by the name of Malfalda, Ron was polyjuiced as someone else and was busy stopping it from raining in Yaxley's office, and Harry was hid under his invisibility cloak. And he was relatively sure he was a Death Eater. They had just successfully snuck into the Ministry of Magic.

"Oh, yes, an old family Heirloom," Delores Umbridge simpered, "The 'S' stands for Selwyn. An old pureblood family." She sneered down at the Muggleborn on trial and muttered something derogatory about the woman's parents.

Harry's blood boiled at the lie. The 's' stood for Slytherin.

He raised his wand and cried, "Stupefy!" Umbridge crumpled in a flash of red light and Harry felt a sudden overwhelming smugness as she hit her head off the balustrade. "Stupefy," he said again, his wand pointed at the Death Eater, Yaxley.

"Harry," Hermione began, but Harry cut her off.

The Dementors had sensed something was wrong, and they had begun to close in on them. Mrs Cattermole was shivering in her chair, her hands pressed to her mouth as she continued to cry. Hermione shouted out a warning as Harry raised his wand again and said, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" When the Dementors backed away, Harry looked to Hermione again. "Get the Horcrux."

Hermione ran to Umbridge and began to riffle through the ruffles in her blouse trying to find the clasp of the locket. When the golden locket, with the chicken egg sized pendent on the end, was safely in her pocket, she said "Geminio!" A duplicate of the locket appeared around the unconscious woman's neck and Hermione grinned, "There… that should fool her."

She and Harry looked at each other as they tried to free Mrs. Cattermole. They had the Horcrux. Now all they had to do was find Ron and escape from the Ministry of Magic.

_XXX_

September 1997.

_June 5__th__ 1997._

_The island was no larger than Dumbledore's office: an expanse of flat dark stone on which stood nothing but the source of that greenish light, which looked much brighter when viewed close to. Harry squinted at it; at first he thought it was a lamp of some kind, but then he saw that the light was coming from a stone basin rather like the Pensieve, which was set on top of a pedestal._

"_What is it?" _

"_I am not sure," said Dumbledore. _

"_Sir, no, don't touch-!" _ **2**

The dream got a little fuzzy after Harry shouted out his warning. All of a sudden a dense black fog that Harry couldn't remember ever being there in reality appeared. It covered both himself and Dumbledore from view. Harry thrashed about on his makeshift bed, his arms flailing as he kicked the blankets off of his legs. The fog was choking someone, Harry could hear them coughing and hacking but he couldn't see who it was. The noises were getting quieter.

"Sir?" He cried out but no one answered him.

The fog started to dissipate. Slowly, Harry could make out his surroundings again. He was still in that horrible dank cave, but his dream seemed to have skipped ahead without him. Without warning, without conscious thought, his body moved closer to the edge of the island. A goblet suddenly appeared in his outstretched hand.

_He flung himself over the edge of the rock and plunged the goblet into the lake, bringing it up full to the brim of icy water that did not vanish. _

"_Sir – here!" Harry yelled. _

_A slimy white hand had gripped his wrist, and the creature to whom it belonged was pulling him, slowly, backwards across the rock. The surface of the lake was no longer mirror-smooth; it was churning, and everywhere Harry looked, white heads and hands were emerging from the dark water, men and women and children with sunken, sightless eyes were moving towards the rock: an army of the dead rising from the black water._

_Harry yelled, "SECTUMSEMPRA!"_ **2**

As he shouted the word, all of the Inferi suddenly shifted, their bodies seeming to curl inward, before straightening up. They all turned to face Harry simultaneously, and each one of them had a large diagonal cut across their chests. The cuts were gushing blood, even though Inferi could not bleed, and each one of them looked identical to Draco Malfoy.

_Dumbledore scooped the locket from the bottom of the stone basin and stowed it inside his robes. _

"_It's going to be alright, sir," Harry said over and over again. "Don't worry_…_"_

"_I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I am with you."_ **2**

Harry shot up in his bed, his pillow flying to one side as his arms flailed again. Dumbledore's words rang in his ears, stronger than anything else the man had ever said to him. Harry thought them over, his eyebrows furrowed.

_I am not worried, Harry, I am with you_.

Harry gave a soft snort and climbed to his feet. It wasn't as if he had actually done Dumbledore any good. The man still died, and Harry had been powerless to save him. Just like there was nothing for Harry to do to help as Dumbledore drank that potion. And for what? He put himself through such torture for a **fake** Horcrux!

_I am not worried, Harry_. He heard the voice again.

Harry thought of Draco's pale face after the Sectumsempra Curse hit him, and then he thought about how Dumbledore's body arched as Snape blasted him out of the Astronomy Tower window. He gave a soft snort and left the tent.

Maybe he should have worried more. Maybe then he'd still be alive.

_XXX_

December 19th 1997.

It was snowing outside. Draco found that a rather comforting fact. There was snow, which meant it was winter, and soon it would be spring. Harry Potter hadn't been caught yet, and the Dark Lord couldn't remain undefeated forever. If it was already winter then Draco could only hope that by the time it was summer again he'd be free, he and his family.

It was snowing in his dream as well.

Everything was soft and white, and so silent. He hadn't heard anything as quiet as this, not since before the Death Eaters took over his Manor. Now he was hard pressed to find an empty room, let alone a room that was relatively quite. He had even been evicted from his bedroom. He had to share with his parents, all three of them had to sleep in the one magically expanded bed, because his father was not in favour with the Dark Lord and apparently that meant they couldn't have their own room in their own house.

Draco tried not to think about it. Instead he closed his eyes and smiled, thinking about the blessed silence. There was no noise save the wind rushing through the branches and the snow. Flakes fell, all perfectly shaped like six point stars, and they covered his hair and his wings. Draco grinned, and allowing himself a momentary respite from reality he spun around and around in a circle, laughing as he held his hand out to catch the snowflakes.

He stopped spinning when he heard voices. He grinned again, waiting for his mate to come into view, as it always happened with his dreams of late. But it wasn't his mate he saw.

Harry Potter looked around at the snow and the trees and he asked, "Where are we?"

"The Forest of Dean," Hermione Granger answered. "I came camping here with my parents once."

"Potter, Granger?" Draco called out softly and moved cautiously towards them. It wasn't possible that they were here. He knew that he had been in bed before he woke up in the forest, so logically, he was dreaming. Why on earth would he dream about Granger?

Neither of them answered him. A bright silver light appeared ahead of Harry, and Draco watched with his heart suddenly lodged in his throat as Harry chased the light into the trees. Hermione ran with him, and Draco felt that he had no choice but to follow their lead.

The light was actually a silver-white doe, a patroni, Draco realized. He recognized the Patronus, but he couldn't quite remember whom it belonged to, just like he recognized his mate's green eyes but not the face the eyes were set in. The doe led the trio to the edge of a frozen lake and Harry dropped to his knees beside the icy pool, and aimed the light from his wand downwards so he could see better. At the bottom of the lake, Draco caught a flash of red and the two Gryffindors gasped.

It was Gryffindors sword, lying at the bottom of the forest pool.

Harry had dived into the lake, and Draco had screamed at him to stop but no one heard or listened. When Harry didn't come up five minutes later Draco contemplated going in after him, but a red blur suddenly shot past him and dragged Harry and the sword to the surface.

"Are you _mental_?" There stood Ron, dripping wet, with one hand on the sword and the other holding the locket dangling off its broken chain.

They spoke, but Draco couldn't actually hear what they were saying. Everything suddenly got blurry, and his head started to throb right above his left eyebrow. He whimpered lightly and clutched at his head. His eyes were squeezed closed, and when he opened them he was sitting on the snow-covered ground and his trousers were wet. In front of him he could see Harry and Ron and there was a voice that sounded like Voldemort.

He knew the voice was talking to the others, he knew it, but it didn't stop him from listening to it. But when he listened, the voice seemed to be saying something else. It wasn't speaking to Ron Weasley, who was holding the sword up above the locket. It was speaking to him now. "I know you Draco Malfoy," it hissed and Draco wrapped his arms around his torso. "I know who your mate is, I have seen your heart and it is mine."

The voice suddenly stopped, as if it had gone back to taunting the red head instead. The momentary respite did nothing to calm Draco's heart rate. His heart pounded inside of his chest, the noise almost loud enough to hear, and his eyes were watering up. Voldemort was lying, he was a liar; that was what Voldemort did: lie. But Draco couldn't help but listen. Everything Voldemort hissed at him was just an echo of the fears that his own mind whispered to him at night, before he was allowed to dream.

"He will never be yours, he will never love you." It spoke again. "He belongs to me!"

"NO!" Draco screamed, trying to ignore the voice and instead bolted up in his bed. His heart pounded frantically and his mother leant over him. Her hair was loose and it fell around her pale, tired face. Her eyes were glossy and she frowned as she pulled him into a hug. Lucius laid a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed lightly.

"He'll come, Dragon," Narcissa whispered, "have faith."

_XXX_

March 18th 1998.

Harry struggled to remain on his feet as Fenrir Greyback dragged him forward. He was tied, back-to-back, to Hermione and Ron, and at the moment Hermione was facing forward. Greyback had a hand fisted into Harry's shoulder-length hair, and Harry was being pulled sideways through the Malfoy's fancy front gate and down a long narrow walkway lined with flowers and trees. He stumbled twice. Fenrir yanked on his hair, painfully, as punishment.

The front door opened and light spilled outside onto them. "What is this?" A woman called, her voice cold.

"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Greyback rasped out, his fingers tightening into Harry's hair again. Hermione had hexed him before they were captured, so no one could immediately tell it was him. Though Greyback was convinced he had captured Harry Potter.

Fenrir dragged Harry around so that he was in the front, directly under the light source. Narcissa Malfoy scrutinized Harry's swollen face, and he noticed her eyes widen fractionally as she stared at his forehead. But instead of agreeing with the Snatchers immediately, she frowned and said, "my son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know."

The study was painted dark purple and every pair of eyes in the portraits that lined the wall turned to Harry as he was pushed through the door into the room. The other two stumbled in after him, a Snatcher on either side of them. Lucius Malfoy rose from his chair before the fireplace. "What is this?" He asked, eyes narrowed.

Draco remained seated. In fact he seemed to slouch lower into his seat as to not be seen at all. He avoided Greyback's eyes especially.

"They say they've got Potter." Narcissa said. Harry squinted. His face was swollen and it made it particularly hard to see, even though he had his glasses on. He thought he saw the pale woman throw her husband a concerned look before turning back to look at Harry. "Draco, come here." At his name, Draco slowly stood up and shuffled his way towards his mother.

"Well boy?" Greyback snarled, grabbing Harry by the arm and pulling him further into the room, directly under the chandelier.

Draco tried to remember how to breathe correctly. His heart was lodged in his throat and he frantically tried not to look at Harry. Harry was equally as hesitant to meet the other boy's eyes.

"Well, Draco? Is it? Is it Harry Potter?" Lucius asked, sounding avid. Narcissa threw him an annoyed glance but turned her face away as Greyback looked up at them and away from Harry.

She was suspicious about the identity of her son's mate, and she had shared her suspicions with her husband, but he seemed not to agree with her. To Lucius it just wasn't possible that Harry Potter could be the dominant mate of their son. It was unlikely. After all, in Lucius' opinion, Harry wouldn't live through the war. The Fates would never have granted such an unfortunate mate on Draco. Narcissa knew there was little proof in her favour. But she was convinced.

All Draco ever talked about since meeting Harry was the dark haired boy himself. Whether to complain, or rage, or, earlier on, whether it was hopeful fantasies of them being friends, Harry was number one on Draco's list of things to talk about, to think about. Draco seemed to never find anything at all interesting unless Harry had something to do with it. Though he liked watching Quidditch well enough Draco only decided he wanted to play when Harry joined the House team.

Lucius had agreed to think it over, to keep an open mind, but right then he seemed more concerned with winning back favour with their Lord than saving Draco's potential mate.

"I can't-" Draco stuttered, looking down at the ground. "I can't be sure." He said at last.

His chest hurt. His back was itching again, that strange tingling feeling spreading up and down his spine. Every time he tried to raise his eyes, every time they almost landed on Harry, he felt a horrid lurching in his stomach that made him think he might be violently ill soon.

"Come closer!" Lucius ordered, but Draco didn't move towards Harry. Instead he walked over to his mother and leant against the fireplace. Narcissa gave his hand a gentle squeeze, behind his back, where no one else could see it. She hadn't told Draco that she thought Harry was his mate yet. She smiled softly to herself. When Draco thought no one was watching him, he raised his eyes and stared at Harry's swollen face, the corners of his lips rising slightly.

Lucius was in front of Harry now, peering at his forehead intently. Narcissa cleared her throat casually and Lucius leant back. "We had better be certain, Lucius." Narcissa cautioned. He looked at her and almost sighed at the hint of anger in her expression. To anyone else she looked as calm as she had when they first entered the study, but Lucius knew his mate better than anyone, and she was definitely angry at him and at the situation.

His eyes met hers and silently he asked, 'you really think it's him?' She gave a barely perceptible nod in return and he exhaled sharply. He backed away from Harry.

She allowed a triumphant smile to curl her lips before a frown reappeared as she looked at Draco. He was leaning back against the fireplace and his eyes were closed. But there was a tortured expression on his face, and she wondered what he was thinking about that could hurt him so.

Draco sighed to himself as he tried to drown out the sound of his father asking him whether the boy before them was his Harry. Even if it was his Harry, which Draco was sure it was, he wasn't going to agree! He could never do that, not to Harry. For some strange reason, every time Draco thought about fighting with Harry or hurting Harry, or thinking about Harry dead, he was overwhelmed by the sense that his mate would be sad or angry with him. His mate would want him to protect Harry, and that was what Draco tried to do.

As he closed his eyes he gave a soft smile as the blurry form of his mate sauntered into view behind his closed eyelids. "Hello, my Veela," the other boy greeted. His glasses, black hair and bright green eyes were all that were distinguishable.

"My mate," Draco greeted holding a hand out.

Harry took the outstretched hand before collapsing to the ground. His eyes were wide open. Draco gave a startled cry and dropped to his knees, gathering his mate into his arms. He felt for his mate's pulse but it wasn't there, and he had to screw his face up to stop tears from falling. Those green eyes were still staring at him, glassy and dull, and Draco suddenly realized where he had seen them before.

They were Harry's eyes.

Draco opened his eyes just as his mother looked away from him. Together, both Malfoys turned their attention back to Harry. Draco looked just as distraught and Narcissa was about to claim that it wasn't Harry Potter in her house. She was just about to insist that the boy be taken to the dungeon until the Dark Lord returned to decide for himself, while secretly planning to help Harry escape, but then Bellatrix Lestrange walked into the room.

_XXX_

March 20th 1998.

It was two days after Harry and his friends had safely escaped from Malfoy Manor, that the Dark Lord returned. By that time the trio of Gryffindors had already broken into Gringotts and destroyed the Hufflepuff Cup, another of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Originally, the Malfoys had decided to hide Harry's capture from Voldemort, as he would be more enrage to find out the boy escaped than to know they hadn't caught him yet. But, Bellatrix couldn't control her temper.

"It's all his fault!" She screamed, pointing her wand at Draco. "He must have let them out!"

"He most certainly did not," Narcissa hissed standing protectively in front of her son. Draco was trembling slightly at the accusation. He almost snorted. He hadn't been brave enough to help them escape; they had done that on their own. Despite his terror, he was oddly proud of his Harry.

"He must have left the cell open then!" Bellatrix insisted.

"Enough of this," Voldemort interrupted, his voice had a horrid hissing quality to it, that made Draco cringe. "What happened?"

And so Bellatrix told him, in precise detail, all about Harry's capture and escape as well as the torture of Hermione and the loss of her wand and Draco's. By the end of it, Voldemort was enraged; his wand had appeared in his hand part way through the re-telling but now it was pointed at Draco's pale, pointed face. The blond lowered his eyes submissively but that didn't stop Voldemort from screaming, "CRUCIO!" at him.

He dropped to the floor, a scream bubbling past his lips as his hands flew to his forehead, which suddenly, insanely, hurt more than the curse did. When the curse stopped, he pulled his hands away and they were bloody. Narcissa stared at his forehead in horror but Voldemort didn't notice. He had turned his anger on Bellatrix now.

Hurriedly, Narcissa and Lucius pulled their son to his feet and nearly dragged him from the room. Lucius wiped at Draco's forehead with a handkerchief. "We'll get a potion for that," the elder Wizard said, his voice trembling slightly, "it will be like it never happened."

As they passed the gilded mirror in the hallway Draco saw what his parents were fussing about. There, on his forehead, underneath the dried blood his father had tried to wipe away, was a faint pink scar. In the shape of a lightening bolt.

_XXX_

March 24th 1998.

Harry threw open the door and ran into the Room of Requirements. Three curious faces turned towards him, and it was the woman Harry recognized as Neville's grandmother who spoke first. "Potter. You can tell us what's going on?"

"Is everyone ok?" Ginny and Tonks asked simultaneously. Hermione and Ron were pacing the room; Hermione was holding a fang from the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

"I think so," Harry said quickly. "Is anyone in the passage from Hogs Head?"

"I was the last to come through," Augusta Longbottom said. She left soon after to help Neville fight off the Death Eaters that were attacking the castle. Tonks ran from the room hoping to find her husband, Remus. When it was just Ginny left, Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"I'm sorry but we need you to leave too." She looked ecstatic at the idea of being allowed to join the fighting. "But then you can come back." She looked crestfallen suddenly and Harry felt a tiny bit guilty, before he decided he'd rather feel guilty than worried.

Looking at her now he didn't feel the same rush of desire, passion, or tenderness as he did this time last year. Maybe he had been fooling himself? Maybe he didn't really love Ginny? He still felt a slight flutter in his chest when he thought of Cho, and he didn't love her. Maybe this was just the same thing? He didn't have time to dwell on it of course; there was a war going on just outside the castle walls.

If he survived this, he vowed he was going to sit down and sort through all of his seriously messed up feelings.

They left the room as well, and shut the door. He walked back and forth in front of the wall, thinking _I need the place where everything is hidden_. The door materialized when he finished his third run past the wall.

"Accio diadem," Hermione called the moment they were inside the room but nothing happened. "I guess we're doing this the old fashioned way," she murmured to herself and began to search.

Harry wandered away from the others. He looked desperately left and right for the blistered old cupboard he had hidden Snape's potion book in, and there it was. Just as he remembered it, with the dusty stone warlock sitting on top, wearing a wig and an old discoloured tiara.

"Hold it, Potter," a voice called as he reached out for the tiara.

"That's my wand you're holding," Draco said, his knuckles white as he clenched the wand he borrowed from his mother. He didn't say Harry's name because he felt horrid calling his mate 'Potter' and he wasn't sure if he was allowed to call him 'Harry'.

Draco had spent the past six days since Harry had escaped from Malfoy Manor thinking about why his mate would have the same eyes as Harry. It was only when he asked, that Narcissa shared her suspicions with her son. Draco had agreed that it was a possibility. The figure in his dream looked like Harry, sounded like Harry, and when he thought about Harry he got a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, just like when he dreamt of his mate. And Harry's presence made his back tingle where his wings would sprout.

He had hung behind to see if he could help Harry in anyway, but Crabbe and Goyle and noticed him. Neither of them wanted for Draco to get back into the Dark Lord's good graces, so they followed him, hoping to kill Harry themselves and get all of the credit.

While Draco had been thinking about his mate, Crabbe had already tried to Crucio Harry, and used the Killing Curse on Hermione, who had come back around the corner to see who Harry was talking to. With a frown, Draco broke from his thoughts in time for Harry to tackle him sideways. The room was swelteringly hot. Draco panted as he stood up; the heat of the room made his face flush pink and his forehead was beaded lightly with sweat. Harry looked much the same, except he had started to run for the door.

Harry hadn't managed to grab the diadem before Crabbe had cast the 'Feindfyre' curse, and it lay, discarded, on the floor by Draco's feet. He recognized it as the thing Harry had been after and slipped it over his hand so it dangled around his wrist. Then he leant down, grabbed hold of Goyle who was stunned and tried to drag him to the door.

Moments later, they were perched on a stack of charred desks and he was sure they were going to die. He'd never be able to know why exactly it was that Harry's soul didn't call to his own. Draco was able to see Harry's dreams, and experiences, and feel his emotions if they were strong enough but he couldn't feel the usual tugging at his soul that urged him to go to his mate, to touch his mate, not like he should have. And now he'd never know why.

"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, HARRY!" Ron screamed as he swooped down after his dark haired friend. Harry leant down off of his broom and grabbed hold of Draco's hand, heaving the blond onto the back of the broom. Ron and Hermione pulled Goyle onto their broom and together they flew towards the door. Behind them, the Feindfyre took personified form, coming to life in the shape of dragons, Chimeras and serpents and they chased the teenagers with their fiery mouths wide open, hoping for a kill.

"The door," Draco heard himself screaming, "Get to the door!" His arms were wrapped tight around his mate's waist, and he pressed his face against Harry's back breathing in the scent of the other boy. He didn't want to die; he had a mate to live for now. "The door!" He cried again.

Hermione, Ron and Goyle disappeared through the door and seconds later Harry and Draco followed. Harry wasn't able to stop the broom and with a crash the door slammed shut behind them, and they flew straight into the opposite wall and slumped to the ground with twin groans. Draco rolled over, coughing and spluttering and retching and Harry gave a grin at his friends, thankful to have survived that.

"Crabbe?" Draco asked rolling back over and sitting up. His eyes never left Harry's face.

"Dead." The brunette said quietly, and Draco bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes drifted shut. They hadn't been good friends but he had known them since he was a child. He might not be sad Crabbe was dead; as he had tried to kill Harry, but Draco was upset that someone he knew had died.

"Shit," Harry said as he moved towards the wall where the door should have been. "We need to get back inside."

"Are you mental?" Ron asked again, this time with his hands on his hips. "You want to go back inside to that?"

"We need to get the Horcrux."

"That was Feindfyre, Harry,. Cursed fire. It'll destroy the Horcrux." Hermione said placing a hand on his shoulder.

"We need to be sure." Harry ran a hand down the wall but he knew there was no chance of getting back inside tonight. "We have to be sure."

"Are you looking for this?" Draco asked quietly. He held up the diadem and smiled shyly at his mate.

To be honest, the others had forgotten that he was there, but when Harry saw the diadem he gave a loud shout and jumped at Draco. The blond winced, expecting to be hit, but instead Harry pulled him into a tight hug. "So glad I saved your arse, now."

Draco gave a silly grin at Harry's words, and handed the diadem over. As Harry touched it, it began to heat up. Then it fell to the floor and split open with a clanging noise. A black substance, with the consistency of blood, began to ooze from the crack in the diadem and there was a distant scream of pain before the substance dissolved completely, and he was left staring at two pieces of what used to be Ravenclaw's diadem.

Ron gave Hermione a high five. "We did it!" He said with a grin.

"Yes we did." Hermione said, before pulling the red head in for a kiss. Harry watched them fondly before turning to offer Draco a cautious smile. The blond's eyes widened and he grinned back unreservedly, his grey eyes sparkling.

"Did I help?" He asked quietly, wanting only Harry to hear him.

"Yeah," the brunette smiled again, "yeah, you did. Thank you." Hesitantly, Draco leant forward, and brushed his lips against Harry's cheek before backing away and lowering his eyes to the ground. Harry frowned at him, but said nothing. Neither of the others saw, and no one spoke about the kiss, but as the other two Gryffindor's began to talk about Nagini, Harry thought about the kiss.

Just a brief flutter of lips against the skin of his cheek was enough to send his heart racing, and Ginny's lips against his own were nothing in comparison. Harry sighed slightly; he really needed to sort his feelings out. It wasn't normal that he spent every night dreaming about Draco, and now, thinking about the kiss – which was barely a kiss at that – rather than the last Horcrux.

"One more," he said out loud as it suddenly dawned on him. Draco watched him warily, but Harry didn't say anything else.

"Just one more," Hermione said in agreement, a huge smile splitting her face.

Harry watched as Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and he fought down the urge to do the same to Draco. Instead he looked out of the window, where he could see Death Eaters and werewolves and giants fighting against the few last remaining members of the Wizarding World that were prepared to stand up against Voldemort. They just had to destroy one more Horcrux, and Harry was no longer doing it for the people he loved.

He found, now that he had come so far, he was doing this because it was what he _needed_ to do. He needed to make a difference. It was what he was chosen for. If he could kill Nagini and survive through the encounter with Voldemort then he'd have the life he always dreamed of having, with someone he could love and be loved by.

Once again, he didn't think it would be Ginny. But, he thought as he looked at Draco's pale face, he couldn't be sure. Not yet.

**XXX**

Some of this chapter was taken from **1**_Book 2_ and **2**_Book 6_ and **3**_Book 7_; you'll know which is which. Mainly because there are only so many ways to destroy the same goddamned Horcruxes again and again… Ignore my laziness, it means I'll post a decent, worthwhile chapter that much sooner.

Also, the dates are as accurate as I could get them. I had to skim read the whole book over the last two days trying to figure out where everything fits. JK was like "In mid August, next day, next morning," then suddenly "It was snowing"… so it's not August any more then?

Oh and **The Lambs** was updated the other day as well. Thanks. Reviews are like candy – some are sucky but most make you high!


	3. I Open At The Close

Hey, here is the next chapter

Hey, here is the next chapter. How much you bet that FFNet will repeat this sentence?

Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter, please enjoy this chapter. Next chapter will be AU/Post-DH. Wow, these chapters keep getting longer and longer. 16 pages…!

**Words: **7,137

**Chapter 3**

**I Open At The Close**

March 24th 1998.

Shouts and screams echoed down the corridor. The three conscious teenagers turned their heads in time to see Fred and Percy Weasley backing into their view. Death Eaters came after them, wands out and firing spells. The man duelling Percy backed off as Harry, Ron and Hermione ran forward to help. Draco took a few steps backwards; Goyle remained unconscious where he had been dropped, on the floor beside the wall.

"Hello Minister," Percy sent a jinx at Thicknesse as he spoke. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"You're joking, Perce!" Fred cried as he, Harry and Ron sent three stunning spells at a Death Eater. The man collapsed and Fred let out a small chuckle. "You actually are joking. I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-" A loud explosion cut him off.

Draco looked up from where he was cowering. His mother's wand was held out in front of him, but his hand was trembling. A second explosion followed, but Draco saw it coming before it hit. He had two choices, and one of those wasn't really a choice at all. He couldn't allow his mate to get hurt.

Pieces of the wall fell down; the glass in the window shattered and shards flew at them all. Percy dived to the ground and Harry felt himself flying through the air, arms over his head and his fingers tight around Draco's stolen wand. "ACCIO!" Draco screamed, and Harry changed course. He had been headed out of the window, but now he flew directly into the blond's arms. Draco caught him, and squeezed him tightly until the noise stopped.

When the world was no longer spinning, and it was relatively quiet Harry opened his eyes. Draco lifted his head up from where it had been pressed to Harry's hair, and with a blush he loosened his hold on his mate's waist. Harry stood slowly, a confused look on his face, but he didn't say anything insulting so Draco decided he had made the right choice. He looked to his left, where people were beginning to scream again, and Draco winced. He wasn't strong enough to save them both, and his mate was more important.

Harry shouted, running towards the man sprawled out on the floor. "No, No!" He cried as Ron struggled in Hermione's arms, trying to reach his brother. "No, Fred! No!"

Draco looked down at the dead Weasley and took a deep breath. His eyes wondered to his distraught, but alive, mate. He had made the right choice.

Ron was trying to drag Fred's body somewhere out of the way, and Percy was busy ducking spells that were being aimed through the hole in the wall. Harry felt as if the world had ended. If the world was over, why wasn't the battle? Should the fighting have stopped as well? Draco placed a hand on Harry's shoulder hesitantly.

"Why didn't you save him?" Harry asked quietly, knowing it was a foolish thing to say but not being able to help himself.

"I had to save you." Draco whispered and took a step back, his hand falling to his side. His back was hurting again. Pins and needles travelled up the curve of his spine and he thought that, maybe, if Harry touched him it would stop the pain. "I'm glad I saved you."

"So am I." Harry whispered. He pulled something out of his pocket then, ducking to avoid a spell, and turned to face Draco. "Thank you. We're the only ones who can do it," Harry said looking at his friends. Ron had hid Fred's body and was now aiming spells out of the window. Hermione was helping him, firing left and right, grinning when she hit her target. "Thank you."

"What's that?" Draco asked as he fired a hex down the corridor at a masked figure. The Death Eater gave a cry and Draco was surprised to find that as long as Harry was there he wasn't afraid.

"A snitch. Albus left it to me in his Will. It has something inside of it, but it's suppose to 'open at the close', but I don't know what the close is. Holding it makes me feel a little more confident about what has to be done."

"And what's that?"

"Murder." Harry whispered. "I have to kill Voldemort."

"NO!" Draco screamed. The fear of his mate being close enough to Voldemort to duel to the death terrified him. The others turned at his shout, looking around anxiously for another fallen friend.

"Where's Goyle?" Ron asked. No one answered. Blue eyes met Harry's, and they were hard and determined. "I want to help kill Death Eaters."

"You can, but first we have to get the snake." Hermione pulled the Basilisk fang from her pocket and held it tight. Ron raised Gryffindor's sword slightly and nodded. Harry tucked the locket back into his pocket and smiled. "We can do this." They were all crying, he realized. His face was wet as well, and he brushed back the tears. There would be time to mourn later.

They started down the corridor before Percy froze. "He isn't coming!" He pointed at Draco accusingly, as if it was the blond's fault Fred was dead. Draco supposed in a way it probably was. He had put into motion the events that led to Dumbledore's death. If Dumbledore hadn't died, things might have been so much more different. He had also chosen not to save the redhead. His mate would always come first.

"He probably shouldn't." Harry turned in time to catch the hurt look flash across Draco's face, before the blond had it hidden. "It won't be safe, Malfoy. We are going to win, but you shouldn't be forced to be there."

"No one is forcing me. I'd rather fight for you than for him." His eyes were wide, and there was something about him that refused to let Harry say 'no'. A sudden flash of Draco, cold and bleeding, without his wings, penetrated Harry's mind and he flinched. The sudden fear that overwhelmed him was stronger than the fear of Ginny getting hurt, or of dying himself.

"No, you need to be safe, somewhere else. Anywhere else." His eyes bored holes into Draco's face until the blond looked away with a blush. "Please?"

"Why do you care, mate?" Ron asked, bewildered.

It was the use of the word 'mate' that made Draco agree. He was Harry's mate, and Harry was worried for him. Ron Weasley could go get stuffed. "Fine." He huffed, looking put out.

Draco gave a glare and took off down the corridor. He figured he'd search for his parents. When he found them, they could all go somewhere and hide. They could explain everything to Harry later, when Voldemort was dead. He wouldn't allow himself to believe in a different outcome. His mind wouldn't be able to take it. Briefly he wondered if he would feel it if Harry died, considering he couldn't feel Harry now.

"No," he berated himself. "Don't think about that. Harry will be fine."

Harry watched him go. A small part of him wanted to hide Draco somewhere only he would find him, but that would be foolish. He would be better spending his energy focused on killing Voldemort and not saving Malfoy's arse.

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "Look inside of him. He'll have the snake with him."

Every thing got sort of quiet after that, and he no longer felt like he was standing with them. Instead he was further away, out of the castle. He was in the Shrieking Shack. The walls were familiarly desolate, and the sounds of the battle were faint and distant. They weren't his thoughts, Harry knew that, but they were thoughts that were happening in his head. He was thinking about the Room. You had to be clever and cunning to find that Room, just like you have to be inquisitive and smart to find the Chamber. The Diadem was safe. Potter would never find the Room.

"My Lord," said a desperate voice. Lucius Malfoy was a sight. His face was swollen and bruised and one eye was puffy and closed. "Please… my son…" He begged. Harry felt a pinching in his chest at the thought that Draco could have been killed so soon after having just seen him. But then he remembered they hadn't seen him. For all Lucius knew, Draco could have been dead long before he stumbled upon Harry at the Room of Hidden Things. He had the overwhelming urge to reach out and pat the man on the shoulder, but he couldn't.

"If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault." Voldemort sneered. "Perhaps he has decided to join Harry Potter?"

"No, never," Lucius' voice shook as he spoke. He didn't feel confident in his denial but the Dark Lord didn't notice. "Wouldn't it be more prudent, forgive me, to seek him out yourself?" Another attempt to find out the fate of his son.

"You do not fool me, Lucius. You wish the battle to end to seek out young Draco. I do not fear that Potter will die, or run. He will come to me before the night is through." He paused, and his forehead creased in thought. "Go and fetch Snape."

Harry suddenly found himself crouching in the corridor, his friends hovering around him. Percy was no longer there. "He's in the Shrieking Shack. He just sent Lucius to find Snape." He didn't even question why he was calling Draco's father by his first name, but still calling his professor 'Snape' when they were both as equally hated.

A Death Eater appeared, followed by Minerva McGonagall. The man screamed Harry's name and fired a hex. Hermione shoved him out of the way. "Get the cloak on, go! We'll catch up!" She cried, firing off a spell at a second assailant.

He pulled the cloak out of the bag around his neck and threw it over his three friends. He doubted anyone would see their feet considering the battle that was raging. He made sure to take out one Death Eater before they ran down the corridor. That was the professor wasn't out numbered.

Dean and Parvati were duelling three Death Eaters, and Draco was crouched on the landing by the stairs pleading with a fourth. "I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy. I'm on your side!" He wasn't really, but they didn't need to know that. Ron and Hermione helped the two Gryffindors while Harry cast a stunner at the man hovering over Draco.

He looked around for his saviour, and Harry was about to tell him to run again, when Ron reached out and punched him. Harry had to bite back a growl, which surprised him. He had no reason to feel so protective of Malfoy. Draco's mouth was bleeding, and he sat back on the floor looking around confused. "That's the second time we've saved your life tonight," Ron hollered as they ran down the corridor again.

"Harry?" Draco asked softly. He knew it wasn't his mate that had hit him, so he wasn't angry with Harry. He was rather pleased that Harry was willing to save him for a second time. His finger was pressed to his lips, remembering the taste of Harry's cheek and he grinned as he stood up.

They watched through the gap between the Shack and the tunnel from the Whomping Willow as Snape paced in front of Lord Voldemort. He could see Nagini as well, safe in her enchanted bubble. Ron's hand tightened around the sword.

"Let me find the boy. I know I can find him." Snape said breathlessly. Voldemort chuckled.

"I have a problem Severus. Why doesn't it work for me?" He held up a wand and Harry gasped. That was Dumbledore's. That was the Elder Wand. "I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Olivander's years ago."

"My Lord?" Was all Snape said.

"I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore. I think I have the answer. The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly because I am not its true master. You killed Albus. While you live the Elder Wand can not be mine, Severus.."

"My Lord!" Severus cried, raising his own wand.

"Master the wand, and I master Potter." He almost seemed to be talking to himself. Harry watched with baited breath as the bubble which encased Nagini floated towards Snape. Harry wanted to call out a warning, but it was too late. The bubble had encased Snape, head and shoulder, and Voldemort was yelling in Parseltongue.

**Kill**.

Snape's face lost what colour it had, and he let out a terrible scream. Hermione winced, her face pressed against Ron's shoulder. They may have hated him, but no one deserved this. Ron still could remember how he had felt when he heard Nagini had bitten his father, and now he had to sit back and watch someone else be bitten. Snape's black eyes widened, and they seemed to be staring at the children's hiding space. The snake's fangs pierced his neck and he screamed again. He fell to the floor as his legs gave way.

"I regret it," Voldemort said coldly, though there was no remorse in him. He turned away. Nagini's cage followed him. Voldemort and the snake left the room, and Snape lay upon the floor, his neck gushing blood and Harry couldn't take it anymore. He ran from his hiding place and pressed his hand hard against Snape's neck.

"You'll be fine," he said softly, not sure if he meant it or not. Snape looked up at him, lips parted and eyes wide. A silver fog seemed to be swirling around them now, and Hermione at once recognized it for what it was. Quick as a flash she transfigured grains of dirt into two vials and began to scoop the silver stuff into it.

"Take… it… t-take it…" He panted, his hand softly clenching around Harry's. Hermione handed the full vials to him and he tucked them into his pocket. "Loo-Look at me…" Harry did. He stared Snape straight in the eye as the man opened his mouth again. A rasping noise came from his throat as he managed to choke out, "forgive me?" His eyes started to dim, and his grip slackened.

Just when Harry thought it was too late, a flash of blinding light appeared above the two dark haired Wizards and it seemed to be raining inside. Large, wet droplets fell onto Snape's face, and chest, bathing his neck with their salty wetness. Harry gave a soft laugh as his mind caught up and realized it wasn't raining. Fawkes was crying.

"Where did you come from?" He asked, overjoyed, but he didn't know why. Why should he care if Snape died? He hated Snape. He frowned, pushed that thought from his mind, and laughed again. No one else should die for Voldemort, not even Snape. "Thank you, Fawkes." The Potions Master had slipped into unconsciousness, but he had more colour in his face and there was no wound on his neck.

The phoenix gave a caw, and Harry frowned as Fawkes talon came out and tried to scratch him. The claws dug in to the front of his robe and he frowned a little before realizing what the animal wanted. He handed over the two vials, and smiled as Fawkes used his beak to nudge them back into Severus' robe pocket.

"I'm sure," he said at Ron's protest. "If it were that important, he'll show us himself."

"He's unconscious. We might need to see it now." Ron said, arms folded over his chest.

"I'm sure we don't." Fawkes agreed with Hermione by flapping his wings.

"Let's get this over with." Harry said, a smile on his face.

Suddenly a cold voice was speaking in his ear, and it seemed, for a moment as if Voldemort had re-entered the Shack. He hadn't, but someone else had, and they stood still and silent and just watched.

"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead and treat your injured. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest, for you Harry. If you have not come to me, I shall enter the battle myself next time. And I will not be so merciful."

"Don't listen to him." Hermione said immediately.

"I still say we look at Snape's memories." Ron said. "He gave them to you when he was dying."

"He's not dead. You think we should bring him to the Infirmary?"

"He'll probably be safer here." Hermione looked to Fawkes and the phoenix bobbed its head, promising to stay with the man until he woke up. "Come on, we have to find the others. We need to think of something."

"I have an idea." They looked at Harry expectantly. "I got to the Forest, and try not to die."

"I like the not dying part. Where do we fit in?" Ron asked, smirking.

"You don't. I go alone. I won't have anyone else getting hurt because of me."

Someone else cut off Ron and Hermione's protests. "Absolutely not." Lucius Malfoy said, stepping into view. He had come back to see if his Lord could be persuaded to stop the battle, only to find his Lord had tried to murder his only, real friend. "You will do no such thing. It is foolishness." He ignored the three wands that were pointed at him. He raised one eyebrow and took another step into the room. "Is he ok?"

"Voldemort thought he possessed the Elder Wand."

"That's a myth," Malfoy scoffed instantly.

"I have the Invisibility Cloak, and we think I have the Resurrection Stone, if I could get the snitch to open." The last part was muttered quietly. "Snape doesn't control the Elder Wand. He didn't disarm the Headmaster."

"No!" Hermione gasped looking at her friend.

"That's brilliant mate!" Ron grinned. "You have Malfoys wand. You control the Elder Wand!"

"But what if Voldemort still thinks it is Malfoy? What then? Should we find him?" Lucius' eyes widened at the mention of his son. Harry spoke before the blond could ask.

"He's safe, the last we saw him."

"Had to save him twice though," Ron grumbled. Lucius looked instantly relieved.

"If you tell me what you need doing, I could help you."

"Why?" Hermione asked, instantly curious and suspicious all at once.

Lucius frowned for a second, his forehead creasing then uncreasing almost instantly. "I believe that Draco should be the one to tell you. And even then, only Mr. Potter has the right to know." Harry frowned at him thoughtfully.

He weighed the options over in his mind. Draco had helped destroy a Horcrux, and he had save Harry's life and tried to protect him from Voldemort. Lucius wanted to help his son, so obviously Draco attitude adjustment wasn't just from living with Voldemort. It had something to do with him. Hermione seemed to have reached a similar conclusion. It wasn't the same as Harry's idea, because she didn't know about half the things Harry did, but she nodded at him and he smiled. At least one friend wasn't going to blow up over his decision.

"Ok. We need to kill Nagini, but she's always in that cage."

"WHY ARE YOU TELLING HIM?" Ron screamed, his face bright red. Hermione instantly berated her boyfriend.

Lucius took Harry by the arm and dragged him away from the other two. His eyes flickered towards Severus briefly, before landing on Harry's face. "I don't like you." He said plainly. "But I'm doing this for Draco, not for you, understand."

"Sure." Harry said with a shrug. He knew Lucius didn't like him. He knew Draco might have liked him, but not why. Maybe he'd find out soon.

"Don't die, Potter, or I swear I will curse your afterlife." He paused. "Why the snake? Surely killing the Dark Lord comes first?"

"I can't kill Voldemort until the snake is dead. She's a Horcrux."

"A Horcrux?" Lucius asked softly. "A soul vessel?" His eyes hovered on Harry's scar for a moment before they flickered away. A vessel was something that was used to store something else, in this case a piece of someone's soul. Living creatures were not meant to be soul vessels, because it effected the soul fragment and the original host soul as well. Nagini might have enjoyed killing people less before Voldemort made her into a Horcrux, or she could have been smaller but had been forced to grow by the soul fragment. Lucius eyed Harry again. If someone were a vessel it would take away most of the hosts control over its own soul. The vessel wouldn't be able to take part in a bonding ceremony, perform aura magic, necromancy nor feel a mate's call. Lucius bit his lip; he wondered, and then dismissed the thought. Surely, if Harry were a Horcrux someone would have known? Dumbledore, Snape even?

"So, we kill Nagini," Lucius continued, "and then Voldemort will be defeated?"

"One very easy Killing Curse later." Harry said with a soft smile. Lucius was easier to be around when he wasn't sneering and insulting everyone in sight. This Lucius, who he was right then, was sort of comforting. He reminded Harry of Draco. "The problem is how to get Nagini out of the bubble."

"I was there when he cast it. It isn't a very complex spell. A simple 'Finite' should suffice as long as the cast aims directly for Nagini's head and is close enough."

"There you go, guys," Harry said, cutting into the bickering of his friends. "That's where you fit in."

"What, mate?" Lucius flinched at Ron's choice of words.

"Ron, keep that sword on you. Hermione, if I distract Voldemort long enough, you need to get close to Nagini and cast a Finite directly at her head. Then Ron, you need to behead her. Chop her into little pieces if you want, I don't care." They nodded and took a deep breath.

Lucius let out a soft chuckle. "Do you duel well enough to last that long? I remember you during the resurrection." He chuckled again, obviously not impressed with Harry's duelling skills. Lucius walked to Severus and picked up the man's wand. "Tempus. We still haven't forty-three minutes. If we hurry, and you try hard enough, you might survive this."

How anyone could sound so arrogant and give off the aura of being in charge when their face looked like it had lost three rounds with a boxer was anyone's guess. Harry rather envied the blond man in that respect. He knew he looked worse for wear, and he admitted he felt it as well. Lucius, it seemed, wasn't letting that get him down. Malfoys were known for their pride, though. And their arrogance.

"There is no counter curse to the Avada Kedavra. I trust you know how to cast that?" Harry nodded slowly. "Good. He will use it a lot. Instead of ducking and throwing yourself side to side," Harry remembered the fight in the graveyard, just as Lucius did, and they both winced at the terrible duelling Harry did. "Use something to block the curse. Summon a rock, and enlarge it. Hide behind it; reflect the curse off of it. Use a mirror. A mirror will reflect the curse back at the castor."

"Ok," Harry said.

"Don't conjure a shield unless you have to. It saves more energy to summon something to protect you than to use your own magic maintaining a shield when you could be using you magic on the offensive." Harry nodded again. He pointed the wand at Harry. "Good, let's practise."

"Wha-?" Harry said, and before his brain could catch up with Lucius' line of thought a sickly green light was flying towards him. He dived to the ground and Lucius let out a hiss of air through his teeth.

"Reflect it, do not duck. You are not an animal, so stop rolling on the ground like one." He shot the spell as soon as Harry was standing.

"Accio!" He screamed, his heart racing. A chair flew in front of him, and then dropped to the floor as the green light engulfed it.

"Much better." Lucius praised. Ron and Hermione had their wands pointed at the blond, but Lucius ignored it. He smiled. "Well done." Harry just started laughing. It sounded hysterical to his ears, but he was feeling slightly calmer than he thought he would have been. He briefly wondered how Draco would feel if he had been in the room and chuckled a little more.

"That's one way of doing things."

"Time effective, and it produced the desired results. I'd say it was the best way of doing things." The blond drawled and tucked Severus' wand back into the man's robes.

"Shall we give it a go?" His friends were looking at him like he was crazy but they nodded their heads anyway. "Are you coming?"

"For the time being. Then I will search for my family." Lucius' eyes were narrowed again, his forehead creased with lines.

"Don't worry. He's fine, I'm sure." Lucius allowed his lips to twitch. Potter's soul might not be calling to Draco, but he was certainly feeling some of Draco's mate call. He wouldn't be as worried about Draco otherwise. Lucius allowed a soft smile to cross his face. Maybe things would be ok. Draco would have his mate and they'd all survive this debacle and live happily for as long as they would. He doubted they'd live happily ever after. He was realistic like that.

_XXX_

March 24th 1998. Same time.

"DRACO!" Narcissa cried as she caught sight of her son, slinking through the trees. He was heading into the Forbidden Forest. "What are you doing?" She whispered as she tried to push him back, out of the forest and towards the castle.

"Harry will come. I'm here to stop him."

"He is the dominant. It is not your job to protect him."

"You'd still protect father, though, wouldn't you?" He answered back with narrowed eyes.

"Regardless, Draco. It is not safe."

"Then come with me." He tugged at her arm, handing her wand back over as he tried to pull her away from the trees.

He could hear the other Death Eaters in the forest. Talking and laughing and just waiting for his mate to die. "I have to wait for your father." She whispered, worried. "He has not come yet."

"I'm sure he's fine, mother," Draco whispered. He wrung his hands in front of his stomach nervously, his eyes scouring the edge of the forest for any sign of his father or his mate. He expected that they would turn up eventually, but he had never thought they'd come together.

"I'm afraid this is where I leave you." Lucius said before giving Harry a smoothly executed bow, more mocking than sincere. Harry just raised an eyebrow and snorted lightly.

"Didn't I tell you to go somewhere safe?" Draco blushed lightly, but smiled at his mate, glad that Harry worried for him.

"You aren't going in there?" He said at last, suddenly remembering why he was waiting at the edge of the forest in the first place.

"Go wait in the Shrieking Shack, or in Hogwarts." Harry ordered and Lucius immediately began to pull his son in the direction of the castle.

"Remember, Potter. Do not die."

"Don't duck, don't roll around on the ground like an animal. Got you." He gave Lucius a cheeky smirk and the man merely allowed his lip to twitch into a sneer before trying to drag his son to safety. Draco protested in hushed whispers the whole way, but he wouldn't attack his mother, and seeing as his mother was the only one with a wand, he would have to if he were going to escape back to his mate.

Draco looked over his shoulder and watched his mate. Harry was smiling serenely, playing with the snitch again. He looked as if he knew something no one else did, something he didn't want to share, but in truth he was smiling because he didn't know something. He didn't know what Dumbledore knew, he didn't know what would open the snitch, but he smiled because it didn't matter. One way or another, this would end now, and it wouldn't matter anymore.

Live or die, which ever was the 'close', he wouldn't need the Resurrection Stone and he wouldn't need the Elder Wand. If he was dead, then he was dead. And if he lived, then he no longer had need of anything to help him fight a dead man.

"You guys ready?"

"As we'll ever be, I suppose." Hermione said, taking a deep breath after wards. "Let's do this." Ron and Harry gave each other a high five and Hermione scowled. "Boys," she said shaking her head. "I'll never understand boys."

Ron and Hermione threw on the invisibility cloak. Harry walked into the forest unhidden. Unafrai- no. That was a lie. He was terrified, but he wouldn't give Voldemort the satisfaction of knowing that. So he walked into the forest, unhidden and apparently unafraid. He held his head high and he clutched Draco's wand in his hand, missing his own wand terribly.

A voice whispered inside of his head, '_I must die, it must end_', but Harry hardly heard it. He could hear the wind rushing through the branches and now he could hear the sounds of the Death Eaters shouting and talking, and he could hear Voldemort's voice, the clearest of them all.

"I thought he would come, I expected him to come," Voldemort said, sounding confused and annoyed simultaneously.

Voldemort's voice sounded a little like that voice in his head. '_Neither would live, neither could survive_', it said again. It was Harry's own soul, trying to tell him what Snape had not. He needed to destroy another Horcrux.

But that wasn't right, Harry thought, and the piece of Voldemort's soul inside of him agreed. '**One more Horcrux**', it told him, '**not two**'. It was trying to protect itself. Harry thought hard. He tried to remember if there was another, one he had forgotten? But, no, he had gotten them all, but the snake.

"One more," he whispered and Ron shushed him. '**One more**', Voldemort's voice said again and Harry shuddered, but he hadn't actually heard what the voice said so he didn't know why he was suddenly so afraid.

A coldness overcame them then, and Harry could hear Hermione's teeth chattering as she tried not to shiver and drop the cloak. Dementors flocked around them. They could sense them, but not see them; no one could see them. But they could all see Harry. Harry fished out the golden snitch and squeezed it tightly. The Resurrection Stone was inside, the key to seeing his parents and Sirius once more, and he held it tightly. He knew he wouldn't use it, to use it would be stupid, but he needed to have it with him, to hold it and imagine what it could be like to have them back with him for just a moment. Warmness emanated from the snitch and the Dementors drew back with screeches. Harry brought the snitch to his lips and kissed it.

"This is it," he said. "This is the end." But it obviously wasn't the 'close' because the snitch stayed firmly shut. Harry gave a wry smile and tucked it back into his pocket.

"I was, it seems," the Dark Lord paused, "mistaken."

"You weren't." Harry stepped out of the tree line. The Death Eaters who had seen him earlier grinned and those who hadn't gave shouts and cheers and laughs. Hermione and Ron continued sneaking closer to Nagini. He spoke as loudly as he could, trying to calm his heart down enough to think clearly. He needed to stay focused.

"HARRY, NO!" A voice shouted and his head snapped around to face Hagrid before he even processed the thought of looking. Hagrid was tried to a tree and he screamed again as a green light soared towards Harry's back. The teenager dived to the floor. He could almost hear Lucius screaming at him in anger for that move.

"Harry Potter," he said not appearing annoyed that his curse had missed. "The boy who lived." He twirled the Elder Wand between his fingers and a sly grin spread across his face. "This is it, boy," he whispered, "you are finished."

"Well," Harry said, grinning. "One of us is at any rate." A few of the Death Eaters hissed and snarled at him. Bellatrix was especially vocal in her denial.

"The Dark Lord could never be defeated by you. Never!" She cried, her wand pointed at him. Voldemort raised his hand and Bella lowered her wand sullenly.

"Let us see, which is the stronger Wizard." He raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry screamed, "accio," and one of the Death Eaters flew in front of the curse. "Stronger, or better, Tom? We know you're stronger. But are you better?"

Voldemort gave an enraged scream and cast two curses in quick succession. Harry ducked to avoid one, and with another cry of 'accio' followed by an engorgement charm, he was safely hidden from the second spell by a wall of stone.

"Hiding again, Potter?" Voldemort chuckled, moving slowly so he was able to see behind the stone. Harry wasn't there. "Really, now, hiding does not make you a better Wizard, Harry. Come out and face me like a man." Harry was under a disillusionment charm, and it was holding up particularly well because Voldemort didn't expect Harry to just sit behind the rock and get killed. He looked over to where two sets of feet were cautiously making their way to Nagini. He crossed his fingers.

"Finite," Hermione whispered. Not quietly enough though because Voldemort turned to her, the Killing Curse on his lips.

"Protego." Harry cried, his wand pointed between Hermione and the spell. "Accio." A rock flew towards her. The shield stopped it from hitting her, and kept it suspended long enough for Voldemort's curse to bounce off of it.

"Ah, there you are," Voldemort said. His wand was still pointed at Hermione. She crouched behind the rock, the cloak having fallen off her. Ron was still hidden, and he raised the sword high as Harry rolled to his feet.

"Expelliarmus!" He cried and the Elder Wand flew from Voldemort's grasp and to its true master. Harry clutched it tightly and winced at the slurping, crunching noise that echoed through the clearing just before Nagini's head sailed towards them, landing at Voldemort's feet.

The Dark Lord screamed. He had no wand, but he pointed his finger at Harry and hissed, "Avada Kedavra." Harry pulled the only thing he could grab out of his pocket and enlarged it. The snitch was almost the size of him, and Voldemort could see his own, enraged reflection, half-shocked as the curse bounced back off the shiny surface and hit him on the forehead.

He collapsed to the floor, lifeless. Just to make sure, Ron came over and drove Gryffindor's sword through the monster's chest. The body crumbled to dust and the Death Eaters immediately began firing spells at the three Gryffindors. The snitch was shrunk and shoved back in Harry's pocket and he began to fire spells at the Death Eaters with the Elder Wand. Each spell was twice as powerful as they had been when he used his own wand or Draco's wand. It took fewer spells to fell as many Death Eaters.

But they were still outnumbered, and they were tired and injured. The Death Eaters were ganging up on them, over powering them. "Stupefy!" A voice screamed from beside them. Draco stood there, grinning, his mother's wand back in his hand. "They said I could help if I didn't die." He grinned and hexed another Death Eater.

More children were pouring into the clearing; Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, but Draco was the only Slytherin. When the Death Eaters were all unconscious, Harry turned to face Draco and grinned. "Thanks." Both forgot about Harry having the blond's wand, as both were too busy wondering what the other would do if they kissed them.

"We did it!" Ginny shrieked and threw herself at Harry. "You did it, Harry!" She cried again and Harry grinned at her as they hugged. He missed the agony that flashed across Draco's face, but Ginny didn't. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" She snarled at him.

"Gin, don't. He really helped. Him and his father, if it weren't for them, well," he trailed off rubbing the back of his neck unconsciously.

Draco blushed lightly and Ginny didn't say anymore. Ron pulled her off of Harry in the end, just so he could hug his best mate before Hermione pulled him off Harry, so she could hug the brunette. The others started hugging him too, expect Draco. Draco left the clearing silently, sadly, and he didn't notice that Harry's eyes followed him. Harry had been rather hoping that Draco would hug him.

It was three hours later when Harry was finally allowed to be alone. He made his way into the Great Hall and immediately froze as his eyes landed on Fred Weasley. He swallowed the lump in his throat and walked forward slowly. Hermione and Ron were suddenly behind him, one hand under each of his armpits as his legs gave out. Tonks and Remus were lying side by side, next to Fred and no one had thought to warn him.

People were clustered together around the Hall, hugging their families or grieving for loved ones, and the Malfoys were huddled together in the very corner of the Hall, with Snape, all looking unsure whether or not they should even be there. But when Harry fainted, Draco practically ran from his seat to gather Harry into his arms. Ignoring the glares, dirty looks and the whispers Draco carried Harry to the Infirmary, followed loyally by Ron and Hermione. He didn't notice Ginny glaring darkly at him, nor did he notice the exasperated scowls his family sent him as they stood up and followed him. He only noticed Harry, whose face was pale and whose scar was bright red and bleeding. His lips were plump and pink though and Draco really wanted to lean down and kiss them, just once, but he didn't.

He lay Harry down on the only free bed in the Hospital Wing. Coincidentally, it was the bed that had 'Harry Potter's Bed' engraved on the headboard. "He's here so often," Hermione explained as they tucked him in.

"No, no, no," Snape said slowly, shaking his head in denial. "Tell me it's not Potter!"

Lucius raised an eyebrow, and Ron said, confused, "course it's Harry. Who else would he be?"

_XXX_

March 26th 1998.

He had been asleep for two days, and as he spelt Draco sat by his bedside, never leaving even when Ginny tried to hex him out the door. He didn't touch Harry, he didn't hold his hand like Ginny did, but he stayed with the other boy and he spoke about all the fights they had gotten into over the years and all the fun memories they made. Ginny usually sneered at him, and brought up the time Draco had found them snogging, just before he tried to kill the Headmaster.

Draco would ignore her. He wouldn't rise to the bait and inform her that he had kissed Harry – on the cheek before the battle, all over his skin as they slept – he wanted to keep those memories between he and Harry. They were private. When he had more memories, then he'd share them.

Harry could hear them sometimes. Arguing over him. Ginny cursing Draco, and Draco not cursing her back for fear of upsetting Harry. Ginny whispering 'come back, I love you' and Draco pleading 'come back, I need you'. He had never been needed before, not for himself. They needed him to kill Voldemort and fight Death Eaters, but no one had needed him to be just him. The sound of Draco's voice had made him smile.

Listening to them argue as he drifted in and out of sleep was better than actually sleeping. When he slept he couldn't hear Draco speak anymore. Draco screamed instead.

**Kill**. His own voice hissed and Nagini lunged forward, no longer in her cage, to bite at Draco's throat.

The blond was spread eagle on the ground, naked and pale. He gave an almighty shriek as Nagini's fangs sank into his neck and Harry laughed. He was sitting on the back of Draco's thighs, leaning forward to kiss and nip at the blond's shoulder blades until his wings burst forth. Then, one by one, feather by feather, he plucked Draco wings until there were only bare stalks left, sprouting from the pale trembling back. Blood gushed from the wound, and Draco made noises like a wolf caught in a trap as he writhed to get free. Harry pressed him harder into the ground and bit down hard over Nagini's bite mark.

"One more Horcrux," he said and gave a cold, hissing laugh. Draco went limp beneath him, and his heart stopped beating.

Harry woke suddenly, covered in a light film of sweat. He licked his lips and turned his head to the side, blinking back the tears. He fought with his breathing, trying to even it out just in case anyone was in the room with him and awake. He looked out of the window. The sun hadn't rose yet.

Draco's head was pillowed on the edge of the bed, by his hip, and the blond looked very uncomfortable slouched over in his chair like that. With a frown, Harry grabbed the Elder Wand from the bedside table. His robes hung over the edge of the table, and Harry assumed every thing that was meant to be there was still in his robe pockets. He levitated Draco so the boy was hovering over the bed, beside him, and then lowered him gently. Draco immediately curled towards Harry, seeking the warmth of the other boy and the comfort of his mate. Harry put the wand back and wrapped an arm unconsciously around Draco's waist. The hand moved higher, until at last it was pressed between Draco's shoulder blades.

There was no bump, no ridges; nothing that would indicate Draco had anything other than an ordinary back. No wings. Harry breathed out deeply, relieved and fell asleep. He didn't notice Ginny, wide-awake, sitting in the chair opposite Draco. Her face was almost as red as her hair.

**XXX**

Thanks for reading!

Just so you know, the weirdness of Harry and Draco's bound-lack of soul calling will be explained when the last Horcrux enters the plot. Also, I'll explain why Draco was able to touch the Horcrux, but Dumbledore and the others aren't, then as well. Please be patient, and not give me grief.


	4. Heart Felt

I am so exhausted

I am so exhausted. Friday morning, got woken up at 7am, and had to work until 11pm. Had to work Saturday morning at 9, and am babysitting until 2am, then have to work Sunday at 8.30am, and my friend is staying over so I probably will get no sleep. Then I have to bring my friend and myself to college Monday at about 8am, and am working till 11pm that night, as well as Tuesday. WTF?

This chapter is so lucky to exist. I was going to do The Lambs cause the next chapter is already slightly done, but no, I'm being nice to the Drarry fans!

**Words: ** 6,404

**Chapter 4**

**Heart Felt**

April 1st 1998.

The week had passed so quickly Harry wasn't even sure if he had lived it. It had seemed, to him, like he had fallen back asleep in the Hospital Wing, and then he had stayed asleep for all of this time.

The reconstruction of Hogwarts was already underway. Snape had been found, healed and confined to his personal quarters. He had the floo system cut off, of course, and he was being forced to share with the Malfoys, but he was happy enough to have survived. There wasn't a minute that went by when you didn't see at least one Auror. Hogwarts was swarming with them. They were always coming and going, checking this and that, questioning so-and-so, etc. Minerva McGonagall was instated as Headmistress, and Snape was currently an ex-professor, because Horace Slughorn had agreed to stay on one more year.

Harry had spent most of the last week cleaning away fallen stones, and walls, and banishing them to god-knows-where, then repairing doors and windows. He had most of the house elves helping him, and pretty much all of Wizarding England chipped in with the work load, but to Harry it felt like he was all alone. Like it was all some dream, and he was just drifting, moment to moment, cleaning one mess to another mess, just waiting to wake up and realize Voldemort was still out there.

It wasn't until just then that it really sank in. Voldemort was gone.

He wasn't coming back.

"Harry, are you listening to me?" Ginny screeched, her hands on her hips. One foot slid forward slightly and she pursed her lips, before letting out a deep breath. "Harry we need to talk about this. You can't keep avoiding me."

"I haven't been avoiding you." He was being honest. Harry honestly hadn't been avoiding Ginny, in fact he hadn't really thought about Ginny much for a while. He had woken up the morning after he put Draco into the bed with him, and Ginny had no longer been by his bedside. Harry still didn't know she had ever been there that night. His thoughts mostly centred on when would Voldemort next attack him, or on Draco.

"Don't lie to me. You haven't spoken to me in a week!" Her voice was growing shrill again and Harry winced a little as he thought about how much she reminded him of Molly.

"Ginny, I've barely spoken to Ron and he's my best friend!"

"But you've spoken to Malfoy," she accused, an ugly sneer spreading over her face.

"Well, yeah," he shrugged as he spoke. "I had to talk to the Aurors about them. It was only fair that they were there as well. And anyway-" He stopped mid sentence. Harry didn't know that Ginny had seen him share a bed with Draco, and he didn't think it was any of her business anyway. "He saved my life."

"He didn't!" She protested. "Not really. His dad might have helped, but Harry, you defeated Voldemort without them. Malfoy picked up that Horcrux, it doesn't matter. It would have been destroyed anyway!" Ron had thought it was only fair to tell his sister everything that had happened during the past year. He figured as Harry's girlfriend she had a right to know. Harry had been close to punching Ron when the redhead told him. That was about three days ago, and also the last time Harry had spoken to Ron since.

"Ginny, let's not argue about this. I haven't been avoiding you, the end."

She grinned then, and Harry let out a sigh. He figured the conversation was over but before he could walk away she grabbed his hand and held it tightly. Ginny moved closer to him, smiling wider now. She tried to kiss him, but he recoiled unconsciously not noticing the hurt flash across her face. He hadn't meant to pull back, but the moment he realized what she planned to do, his whole being screaming that it was wrong, _she_ was wrong. She wasn't what he wanted.

"Harry?" Her voice shook. "I told you I'd wait for you. It's over now Harry. We're safe. It's safe to be together. I love you, Harry." She tried to kiss him again but he took hold of her shoulders, pulling his hand from her grasp, and shook her gently.

"It is over Ginny. I know. This last week has been a blur for me. I kept thinking that there was something else coming, something else Voldemort concocted to keep me on my toes, but you are right. It's over. But so are we. I've changed Ginny, this past year has changed me, and I'm sorry but I won't pretend to be something I'm not. Not even for you." He let her go then. She didn't say anything. He noticed that look in her eyes though as he walked away, the look that meant she had made up her mind and she was determined to get what she wanted. He let it go without saying anything else. Eventually she'd come to terms with it, he thought, she just needs time.

Harry walked slowly, away from Ginny, with no particular destination in mind. He ended up walking straight into Draco. He had seen more of the blond than he had his own friends in the past week, but that was mainly because his friends were busy repairing Hogwarts and Draco wasn't trusted to do that. The morning they had woken up together Draco's face had turned a particular shade of red and he had bitten his lip shyly before whispering 'hello Harry'. Harry had just grinned back and said 'you looked uncomfortable'. Draco had looked around for Ginny, though Harry didn't know that, and not seeing her Draco had beamed at his mate. Harry had smiled bemusedly back at him but then Madame Pomfrey had walked into the room.

"Hello." Draco said quietly. "I was looking for you."

"What's the matter?" Harry's eyebrows drew close together as he tried to think about why Draco would come searching for him. Draco didn't particularly like being on his own anymore. He was convinced that his entire family was going to Azkaban any day now and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with them first. And, also, two days ago he had the living daylights beaten out of him by five Ravenclaws and he probably wouldn't have risked something similar happening unless it was important.

"The Aurors want to speak to you." He was still speaking quietly so Harry stepped closer to him. The movement made Draco smile softly.

"What's with these little grins of yours?" Harry teased, elbowing the blond. Draco just glared and hesitantly reached out for Harry's hand. It was strange of Draco to show such open emotion, especially considering the fact that if he was rejected he could die. He didn't particularly take well to rejection. But he hoped for the best. In his dreams Harry had always said it wouldn't be easy, but that Harry would accept in the end. Even while awake the brunette was being strangely kind to Draco, and a part of him thought maybe he was about to be betrayed and humiliated, but that wasn't really something Harry would do.

"Interesting new development." He said in response. "Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime. Come on, they're waiting in the Potions classroom."

Harry let Draco keep his hand. He didn't really understand why. He didn't like it when Ginny touched him, but with Draco it was different. The green monster of jealousy had been raging last year every time he saw Ginny with Dean, but now it was gone completely. When he thought of Draco he was suddenly happy and calm, but he didn't get jealous. It was as if a part of him new Draco belonged entirely to him. They were something that Ginny could never compare to, and Harry really wanted to find time to think about everything. Right now he was running on instinct, and he was afraid that if he thought about it too hard he'd end up hurting Malfoy unnecessarily.

They walked silently to the Potions room. If the Aurors were back in Hogwarts then they must have been nearly finished with the Death Eaters they had managed to capture alive. A lot of the Dark side had been killed in the battle. The Light side had used the fight as an excuse to take revenge for the years of suffering and fear they had been forced to live through. The Werewolves and Giants had been taken care of and Harry had never really cared to find out how. Remus was dead, and as far as he was concerned those other Werewolves didn't matter to him. They had fought for the wrong side. The other Death Eaters had been tested repeatedly under Veritaserum, cross interrogated, had information tortured out of them and anything else the Aurors could think of to get what they wanted.

The Aurors had tried to convict the Malfoys and Snape first. The Malfoys had all immediately declared they had saved Harry Potter's life and they deserved some sort of pardon. Snape had refused to say anything except, "come see me when Potter wakes up." Apparently they had come back to see him, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if he would finally see what memories were inside of the vials.

Draco knocked on the door of the classroom and it immediately creaked open. Two eyes peered through the crack between the door and the frame. It swung open wider when the eyes landed on Harry's scar and went round. "Mr. Potter, sir, it's an honour!" The Auror gushed as he enthusiastically shook Harry's hand, pulling him into the room and completely ignoring Draco. The blond scoffed and Harry threw him a helpless look over his shoulder as the Auror started to introduce his friends. "Ooh, Mr. Potter, my name is Henry Avonmore. This is Davis Jason, and this is Emily Hecktor. It really is such an honour!"

Harry pulled his hand free and smiled at all three of them in turn. "Great to meet you all as well." He paused politely, waiting for someone to tell him what was happening. All three Aurors merely smiled at him. Lucius and Severus traded irritated glances while Narcissa covered her smile with her hand. "Ok, what's going on?"

"Oh, oh," Emily said suddenly. "So sorry. We're here to interrogate Severus Snape. Uh, question, we're here to question." Harry merely raised an eyebrow. "He refused to speak unless you were present."

Harry turned to face his old Professor, and the man attempted what looked like a smile before he seemed to remember it was _Harry_ and a sneer crossed his face instead. Harry just grinned cheekily back. Without a word Snape handed over the first vial of memories. Harry opened his mouth to ask about the second vial before stopping himself, a flick of his eyes towards the group of Aurors had Snape smiling for real. "The second vial is of a personal nature, pertaining specifically to Mr. Potter, and will be given to him for perusal at a later date if I deem it appropriate."

Harry took the out held vial and nodded softly. "Go ahead Mr. Potter." Davis Jason said pointing at a rather large Pensieve resting on the front desk. Harry recognized it as Snape's personal one and he blushed as he remembered what he had done in his fifth year.

Harry emptied the vial into the bowl and a few pictures swirled to the surface before drifting back under the silver liquid. Harry was about to lean forward and enter the Pensieve when Snape spoke. "Only Mr. Potter may view them all. When he is finished, he may show you which ones he wishes for you to view. Many are of a personal nature." Harry hadn't even realized that the three Aurors had followed him over to the desk.

He looked up at Snape, and received a nod in return. With that Harry leant forward, and felt himself spiralling down into Severus' memories. At first every thing seemed to be a little blurred, but then it slowly came into focus, starting in the middle and working outward, like a camera lens. Harry blinked his eyes a little, waiting till the picture was perfect before he focused on what he was seeing.

Harry's mouth dropped open as he watched two children playing on a set of swings at a park. It wasn't what they were doing, nor was it what one of them was about to do that shocked him. The little red headed child got off the swing and picked up a flower. It sat in the palm of her hand, its petals opening and closing on its own as the brunette child shrieked at her sister. Harry watched the child perform magic, but then again he already knew she could do that. He was looking at his mother. That was what surprised him.

Snape had known his mother as a child!

"How do you do it?" The younger Petunia Dursley asked, torn between curiosity and horror.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" A third child said. Harry's eyes widened, though he thought he should have seen it coming, as Severus Snape stepped out from behind the bushes wearing little more than rags. Harry blushed in embarrassment at the same time the Snape in the memory did. He had used to dress like that, he remembered.

"What's obvious?" Lily asked and Harry grinned at the sound of her voice.

"You're a witch!" He said, his voice full of pomp, until Lily took offence and marched towards her sister with a scowl on her face. "You are!" Severus insisted, chasing after her. "So is my mum, and I'm a Wizard!" Petunia just laughed.

The elder sister led Lily away but Harry wasn't watching them go anymore. He was watching as the scene changed. It slowly shifted from Snape glaring after the two children, to Snape sitting cross-legged on the ground opposite Lily. "But once you're eleven and they start training you, you've got to be careful." He said with a nod of his head, like he was somebody important.

"Petunia says you're lying to me," Lily said quietly and Snape looked affronted for a moment. "It is real, isn't it? It's not a joke?"

"It's real for us," Snape promised. "We'll get a letter. Not her."

"Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?" She asked tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear.

He looked her up and down. The fluttery feeling in his chest started again as he took in her red hair, pale skin and stunning green eyes. "No, it doesn't make a difference," he lied.

"Good." She relaxed. He knew she had been worrying.

Harry watched and smiled softly again. In some ways his mother reminded him of Hermione. The scene changed again.

Harry found himself on Platform 9 and ¾. Snape was standing beside a sour faced woman who was presumably his mother. They were both watching a family of four a little way away from them. "Maybe once I'm there I can go to Professor Dumbledore and get him to change his mind." Lily said.

"I don't want to go." Petunia sneered, trying not to cry. "You think I want to go to some stupid castle and learn to be a-to be a-" She looked over at Snape, and noticed him staring. "You think I want to be a freak?" Snape glared back.

"You didn't it was such a freak's school when you wrote to the Headmaster and begged him to take you." Petunia turned scarlet at Lily's words.

"FREAK!" Petunia spat and turned her back on Lily.

The scene was suddenly different. Harry was so busy glaring holes in Petunia's head that he missed the fuzzy transition from one memory to another. His eyes immediately landed on an eleven-year-old James Potter. His father. "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" Harry snorted. It sounded so much like what Draco had said about Hufflepuff the first time they met.

They argued some more, but Harry was so busy thinking about Draco that he missed it. He shrugged, figuring he could look again later, with the Aurors. "See you, Snivellus!" Sirius called as Snape slammed the compartment door closed behind him and Lily.

A few years had obviously passed since the last memory. It was the memory from Snape's Pensieve, the one Harry had accidentally watched during his fifth year. He suddenly realized why it was Snape's worst memory. It wasn't because James Potter humiliated him. It was because—

"I don't need help from a Mudblood!" Snape shouted, his face red from embarrassment and from having the blood rush to his head. Lily drew back as if slapped, a gasp rising to her lips. Snape's eyes immediately widened and she turned from him, ignoring his apologies and his pleas for forgiveness.

This was his worst memory because this was the moment he had lost his only friend. The woman he was in love with. Harry actually felt pity for him, then he realized that Snape could have been his dad, and shuddered at the thought.

The next memory started to play out. Albus Dumbledore looked down on Severus, who sat on his knees, his face emotionless. "Well, what message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"

"The prophecy – the prediction- Trelawney!" Severus gasped out.

"How much did you tell him?"

"Everything I heard. That is why I am here. He thinks it means Lily Evans!"

"The prophecy spoke of a son." Albus said patiently.

Snape became flustered, and rose to his feet. "You know what I mean. He thinks it means her son. He is going to hunt them down, he'll kill her."

"If she means so much to you surely Lord Voldemort will spare her. Couldn't you ask?" Harry didn't think Dumbledore meant what he was saying.

"I did ask."

"You disgust me."

The scene changed again. "Help me protect Lily's son." Albus pleaded, and Harry knew from the look of abject horror on Severus' faces that his parents were already dead. "Lord Voldemort will return and Harry will be in abject danger when he does."

"Very well." He said quietly, seeming to shrink in on himself. "Very well."

The next scene had Harry fighting to control his breathing. He could barely believe it. Dumbledore leant back against his chair, his hand blackened and burnt and he seemed semi-conscious. They spoke of the ring, but Harry already knew all of that. He knew Dumbledore had tried it on, and he knew why. "He plans to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me." Albus said at last, his eyes slipping closed as he spoke. "In short, the boy has a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have. Once Draco fails, the natural successor is you?"

"That I believe is the plan." Severus spoke stiffly. "Are you intending to let him kill you?"

"Certainly not. You must kill me."

"If you don't mind dying," Snape said after some silence, "why not let Draco do it?"

"The boy's soul is not yet so damaged." He smiled in a way that made both Severus and Harry think that there was something more to it. If the elder Severus were watching he would probably guess that Dumbledore knew Harry was Draco's mate, and that Draco wouldn't want Dumbledore's death on his hands while in a relationship with the Gryffindor.

"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"

"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation." After a tense silence, Snape gave an even tenser nod. The scene changed again, but it was only the first memory beginning to play again. Harry stepped backwards and found himself sprayed across the classroom floor. He nodded at Snape first and then at the three waiting Aurors.

The four of them went back in together, but Harry somehow managed to fall into the Pensieve in time to watch only the last two memories play. When Harry came out of the Pensieve again, he landed standing up. Draco cast a quick smile in his direction and he managed to smile back. "You told him," Harry said quietly. He wasn't looking at the Potions Master, but Snape knew he was being spoken to.

"And I have regretted it ever since." Neither looked at each other. Both were staring at the Pensieve, where the memories of Lily Evans would occasionally swirl to the surface.

"Ok." Emily Hecktor said at last. "I think we can safely say that Professor Snape can be acquitted of the murder of Albus Dumbledore." She turned to look at Draco. "You won't be held accountable either, based on the Professor's memories."

"But them!" Davis sneered at the elder Malfoys.

"She hasn't got a Dark Mark," Harry said suddenly, surprising the other occupants of the room. Narcissa hadn't ever done anything to help Harry, and yet Harry was defending her without being asked. "And Mr. Malfoy helped to defeat Voldemort during the Final Battle, potentially saving my life. I can't actually give you all of the details, it's really too dangerous for the general public to know."

Henry nodded, beaming at Harry. "Well, if you vouch for them, we can pardon them, but," he frowned, "if they break the law again you'll be held accountable along with them."

The brunette tried not to grin. "I understand." He tried to sound solemn, but he didn't think they'd be prosecuting the Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort any time soon.

"Henry!" Davis hissed, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Henry Avonmore had just gone well against protocol and broke the rules.

"That's all for now," Henry said and led the Aurors from the room. Harry waved at Draco, and followed them.

_XXX_

April 6th 1998.

Five days past and Harry didn't see Draco or Ginny once, but he did spend more time with his friends. The blond Veela was trying to work up the courage to confess to Harry about being mates, and he had taken to avoiding the brunette in case everything came bursting out before he was quite ready. Ginny was angry, with both Harry and Draco, but she was clever enough to cool off before confronting Harry again. She would give Harry time to realize he still loved her, and then he couldn't accuse her of suffocating him.

Most of them were staying in the castle until the repairs were done. They had been going on for two weeks now, but there was still quite a lot to do. Harry was going through his trunk, unpacking everything and repacking the things he wanted to keep. He kept all of his sixth yearbooks, because he would probably need to brush up on the material before he did his NEWTs. He still had to get the books for seventh year. Those who wanted to repeat the year were welcome to, but those who didn't were invited to sit their exams in the Ministry in August. Harry thought he might study really hard and do his exams in August. If he failed them, he could always repeat the year anyway. It would be too weird to come back to Hogwarts. He couldn't imagine a year at the school without Voldemort trying to kill him.

Ron grinned over at his friend. Harry picked up the bundle of clothes that had accumulated by his feet and pitched them into the fireplace. Neville and Ron cheered as Dudley's old clothes caught fire. Harry folded the scare items of clothing he could still fit into that he had bought himself in Diagon Alley, as well as his old school robes, and put them back in his trunk.

"When things calm down, we need to go shopping." He frowned into his trunk.

"What's this?" Neville held up a wand and Harry rolled his eyes. "I know it's a wand. Whose?"

Harry was about to say, 'mine', but then he thought it might be the Elder Wand but he hadn't gotten around to putting it back in Albus' grave yet. He had used it to fix his Holly and Phoenix feather wand though. It could also have been Bellatrix's wand or, "Draco's. It's Draco's." Harry said, recognizing it as he took hold of the hawthorn wand. He probably should give it back soon. He stood up then, clutching the wand tighter. "Be right back, guys."

Neither boy protested as Harry left the room, his trunk still half packed. "That was weird," Neville said at last.

"That's Harry for you." Ron said before poking the burning pile of rags on the fire.

Harry poked his head through the door of the Potions classroom. He didn't actually know where Snape's private rooms where, and he wasn't even sure if the Malfoys were still living there considering they had all been cleared of any charges now. Luckily, Draco was sitting on one of the desks, swinging his legs back and forth as he watched Narcissa brew some sort of Potion. Lucius and Severus were both in the room, talking quietly, but they fell silent when they noticed Harry.

"Uh, hello. I was wondering if I could talk to Draco?"

The blond beamed and jumped down off the desk. "Hey Harry." Harry smiled. Draco immediately took hold of his hand and pulled him from the room.

"We can talk in my room. My family and I are staying in my Head Boy room. I was Head Boy," he grinned, "I'm probably not any more though. But we're staying in the suit. There are two rooms though, because the Head Girl was a Ravenclaw." Draco led him to a painting of, strangely enough, a yellow brick road. Draco used his finger to tap a sequence of the yellow bricks, much like the entrance to Diagon Alley, and the painting swung open. "Come in."

They went into one of the bedrooms, ignoring the single couch in the living room completely. Both boys' eyes immediately landed on the double bed in the centre of the room, and both boys blushed. Draco wondered what it would be like to make love to his mate on that bed, and Harry wondered what Draco would do if he pushed the blond onto the bed and kissed him.

"I need to talk to you." They said simultaneously.

They both laughed slightly, and Draco held a hand out in invitation. "I have your wand. I almost forgot about it you know. Do you know any wandless spells? Accio, maybe?" Draco frowned but nodded slowly. "Say it?"

"Why?"

"Your wand might not work if you don't 'win' it back from me. The wand chooses the Wizard, and they can be quirky like that."

Draco's eyes narrowed, trying to decide if Harry was teasing him in some manner, but eventually he raised his arm slightly and said "accio." He dropped his arm when he remembered he wasn't holding a wand, but his wand flew back at him from Harry's pocket and smacked him in the chest. He clutched at it, grinning slightly, his fingers running over the length of the wood gently.

"Now I need to talk to you." Draco blushed as he spoke. Harry looked up at him intently, just waiting, but the room stayed silent. Eventually, Draco said, "how much do you know about Veela?"

_XXX_

April 6th 1998. Few hours later.

After a relatively quick lesson on Veelas, Harry sat open mouthed on Draco's bed. The blond looked at him worriedly but didn't say anything.

"You can't feel me?" Harry asked confusedly.

"Not in the normal sense, no. Generally I should be able to feel a tugging sensation in my chest or abdomen whenever you're around, and likewise you would feel compelled, as the Dominant, to seek me out. But you aren't, are you?" Harry shook his head. "I can't feel you either. But I have the dreams. All Veela do."

"I have dreams too." Harry said quietly, even though his dreams were more like nightmares.

"I dreamt about the night you found Gryffindor's sword. Severus sent the Patronus, you know." Harry didn't know, because the memory was the one in the second vial that he hadn't been allowed to look at. "I could see everything as if I were right there, like in a Pensieve, exactly like that. I was dreaming everything that had happened to you that day. Our souls are connected, Harry. I belong with you, and something is trying to stop that from happening, but I'm a soul seeker. Veela, Vampires, Werewolves, we all are. My soul is desperate for its other half, and if that means I have to force a different sort of connection between us-"

"Such as sharing dreams?"

"-Then that's what my soul is willing to do." Draco finished, not acknowledging Harry's question.

"I think about you a lot you know. I don't know why and I can't remember when it started, but do you think it's my soul's way of getting the message across?"

"It could be." Draco frowned as Harry stood up.

"You won't die if I tell you I need some time to think?" He grinned softly.

Draco shook his head. "You'd have to come right out and say it." He tried to smile, but failed. The sudden fear of rejection was over whelming. "Veela are stubborn like that." Harry didn't think he'd reject Draco, but he didn't smile at the blond's bad joke either.

Harry left the room without another word, not looking back at the blond sitting dejectedly on the bed. Draco was almost sure Harry would come back; it was Harry's answer that he wasn't sure about.

Harry spent an hour wondering the corridors. His thoughts swirled around in his head in no particular order. Being told he was the life mate of a Veela was not one of the possible options he had considered to explain away his new feelings for Draco. But he thought, they weren't all that new. He had been thinking about Draco before Dumbledore was killed. He had dreamt about the blond since around then as well. Though Draco did say he came into his inheritance almost a year before that point. Maybe that explained it?

No.

Draco had been an obsession of his since first year. That had nothing to do with him being a Veela. Draco being a Veela had forced feelings onto him, it was just making him act on them. It made him want to see Draco, speak to him, spend time with him and protect him. It didn't make him care about the blond, or fancy him or want to kiss him. But Harry felt all of those things anyway, and none of them were Draco's fault. So at least he knew he wasn't being forced to do anything against his will.

He still had a choice. He could say nothing to Draco, and let the boy spend the rest of his life alone and Mateless, or he could out right reject the Veela and watch him die, or he could accept him, and spend his life with Malfoy even though they still didn't know why there was a block on their soul bond. His scar flared in pain as he thought that. Harry winced, and automatically clamped his hand over his forehead.

Back in the Head Boy rooms, Draco forehead hurt suddenly as well, and his first thought was that something bad had happened to Harry. Despite being a Submissive, he wanted to help his mate. He left the room quickly, not noticing his parents were sitting on the couch as he left, and went in search of his mate.

"Harry?" Ginny asked quietly. She drank in the sight of him, not having seen him in five days. "How have you been?"

"Hmm?" Harry made a non-committal sound. He wasn't really listening to her, he was too busy thinking of Draco, but he figured it was polite to offer some sort of reply.

"I've been thinking, Harry, about us."

"Hmm." He said again. The way Draco reacted when Harry didn't want to be his friend in first year could be explained away by the fact that he was a Veela, who had potentially been rejected by his future mate. Even if Draco didn't know it yet, it would have been enough to make him angry and upset. Harry could understand his behaviour over the past seven years in that case.

"—And I was thinking, maybe, when things calm down a little and the shock wears off—"

"Hmm." Harry nodded his head this time.

"—I love you Harry, and I know you love me too. We'd be so great together. You know it. I can wait, Harry. I don't mind waiting for you—"

"That's great." He said, his mind still pondering his seven-year relationship with Draco. Was he willing to take six years of animosity and one year of tentative alliance and try and change it into a long future of possible happiness? Would it be worth it? He wasn't sure, but he did know that if he said no or gave no answer he'd regret not attempting to make this work. After all, Veela naturally are loving creatures, they would do anything to please their mate, and so Harry really wouldn't have to do much in the relationship. If he were unhappy about something, Draco would change to make Harry happy. It wasn't necessarily what he wanted from life, but it would have been better than being stuck in a loveless marriage just so some girl could say they married _the_ Harry Potter.

"—Oh thank you Harry!" Ginny cried throwing her arms around Harry's neck, just as Draco came around the corner. Her lips pressed against Harry's, and the boy blinked in shock and pushed her away just in time to see Draco dash back around the corner.

"What were you doing?"

"You said we could try again!" She shouted, leaning forward to try and kiss him again. "Why do you keep pushing me away?"

"Ginny, I wasn't listening to a word you just said right now. As far as I know you were talking about the weather. I don't want to get back with you. I told you last week, I've changed. It won't work anymore, and I'll tell you why in my own time. I am sorry but I'll have to ask you to stop trying to kiss me! Now if you'll excuse me." He left her there, staring after him with her mouth open as he ran after Draco.

Lucius was standing in the threshold of the portrait when Harry tapped out the correct sequence of bricks. The elder blond Veela glared at him fiercely.

"I know I upset him, but I really need to talk to him. I didn't die like you said to, and I think that means I get some kind of 'forgive and forget' card or something." Lucius said nothing. He stared at Harry's face for a moment and obviously saw something he liked because he stepped out of the way and let Harry into the suit.

"Draco?" Harry asked as he pushed open Draco's bedroom door.

The blond was red faced, and his eyes were swollen from crying. "Go away." Draco hissed. He jumped off the bed and pushed the door closed in Harry's face. The Veela in him didn't get angry about that because he was just as afraid that if he let Harry inside, they'd be rejected.

"Do you really want me to go away?" Harry asked the door, ignoring the elder Malfoys who were trying not to stare at him. "I can if you like?"

"NO!" The door opened again. Draco was standing behind the door when Harry entered the room, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "You kissed her." He accused softly.

"For someone who hates Hufflepuffs so much, you sure are acting like one." Draco didn't smile, and Harry frowned at him. "I didn't kiss her. She kissed me. I was doing what I said I'd do. I was thinking about this, about us, and she ambushed me. I wasn't even listening to her and the next thing I know she's molesting me. I promise," his hand reached out to barely touch Draco's cheek, "I don't want her."

"What do you want?" Draco was half afraid of the answer. But Harry didn't answer the question.

Instead he said, "Ever since I've known I was a Wizard, I've known you as well. And we didn't always get along but you were always there. There isn't a point in my life that I can think back on and remember with as much clarity as I can the events that have included you. For half of my life you've been a constant factor, generally a pain in my arse, but still, you've been there. And I think my subconscious was trying to get a message through all of this time. I like you, Draco. I need you. I don't know if I love you, but I care about you more than I ever did Ginny or Cho, and I think about you a lot more as well. So it must mean I love you, right? I care about you more than Ginny, and I thought I loved her, so I must love you as well? Maybe I just don't know what love feels like."

"I've never loved anyone before. Except my parents, and that's different." The blond whispered, looking up hesitantly. "Maybe we can teach each other?"

Harry cupped Draco's cheek and pulled his face forward slightly. Their lips met briefly and it was enough to make the Veela moan softly. "I would like to be your mate." Harry smiled into the kiss, his free hand running up and down Draco's back. He still couldn't feel any wings, and he had been too worried about the answer to ask, so he assumed Draco didn't have any. He held Draco closer against him in response, and Draco kissed back furiously.

The blond's eyes closed in pleasure, and he thought his heart might have started to beat just a fraction faster than normal. Draco didn't think he had ever been happier than he was right then.

**XXX**

Thanks for reading. A review would be nice. My gmail broke… Sigh!


	5. Life Goes On

Did LJ go down or something? It wont load...

Hey all here is the next chapter.

Before we start I want to say something, THAT YOU ALL BETTER READ. I don't care if you miss this because of a fault of your own. I will be severely pissed off with people who ignore this and then say, "Oh Teddy isn't that age". So listen up. In DH, JK has "It was mid March before…" then they go off to Hogwarts. The HP-Lexicon says that Teddy was born in either April or May, which makes him negative years old when his parents died.

So, Teddy was born April 12th 1997, for future reference, ok? He is just under a year old at the start of this chapter, and still living with Andromeda Tonks. Ted Tonks is dead, people, remember that.

**Words: **5,361

**Chapter 5**

**Life Goes On**

April 8th 1998.

Harry spent the two days since he accepted Draco as his mate living with the Malfoys. It got a little bit awkward sometimes, but Harry knew his trying made Draco very happy. It was a bit disconcerting; the moment he had accepted Draco he was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to keep the blond happy. Likewise, Draco wanted nothing more than to please his mate in return. Harry supposed he should have questioned the blond, but his thoughts and his feelings weren't hurting anyone, so he chose to keep them to himself.

"Are you going to tell them?" Draco asked softly.

He was still lying in bed, the covers drawn up to his chin. Harry lay beside him, on top of the duvet, fully dressed. The brunette's fingers traced across Draco's chin and up his cheeks. They ran through the blond hair, pushing it back off of his forehead, before Harry pressed a kiss to the pale skin.

"I'm telling them today." He whispered, before his lips crushed against Draco's. The taste of the blond boy exploded through his mouth, and he breathed in deeply, pulling out of the kiss and burying his face against Draco's neck. "I like you." He said softly, before standing from the bed.

Draco beamed up at him. "I love you."

Harry had picked up the habit, over the last two days since Draco had first confessed he was in love, of telling Draco he cared for him, or found him attractive, or funny, or smart, when ever they did something intimate. They hadn't gone further than kissing, or in Harry's case running his hands along Draco's bare back almost compulsively. He still had dreams of hacking off Draco's wings and watching him die, and he was near obsessed by the fact that Draco didn't have wings. Draco was safe if he didn't have wings. Harry's dreams couldn't be prophetic then.

It was strange how, so suddenly, all of the hatred he had once felt was gone. But did he ever really hate Draco? Draco annoyed him, angered him, yes, but did he hate him? He hated Delores Umbridge, and Voldemort. It seemed that Draco hadn't quite made it to that list. Where Harry had once immensely disliked Draco, he now felt a bubbling of warmth within his chest whenever he looked at the blond. It could have been a by-product of the bond trying to form between them, or the remains of his obsession from sixth year, but whatever it was Harry knew that there was no way he could imagine being without Draco now.

"Are you planning to stay in bed all day, lazy?" Harry grinned and pulled the blanket down the bed. Draco, bare-chested, pouted at his mate. He seemed to realize he wasn't going to get any sympathy because his mouth turned down into a scowl, and he reached down to drag the duvet back up.

"Oh go away, Potter," he muttered as he hid beneath the duvet.

"I'm going, I'm going." Draco's head popped back out from under the duvet, and he watched his mate with wide eyes. "I'll be back soon, ok? Assuming Ron doesn't kill me." The blond immediately relaxed and offered his mate a wide smile as Harry left the bedroom.

"Hello Harry," Narcissa immediately greeted.

Harry had had nothing to do with her before but since he had started living with them he had grown immensely fond of her. She was a kind woman when kindness was deserved, but she could be cruel and brutal if it was necessary to protect her family, and Harry found himself admiring that, even though the thought of hurting someone else to save someone made his stomach clench. But then he thought of someone hurting Draco, and realized that, yes, he could be cruel and brutal if need be as well.

"Hello Narcissa," he said in return, adding a soft smile.

"I told you," she took his hand as she spoke. "Call me Cissa. Honestly, dear, you're far too formal." She pulled him against her quickly, giving him a quick hug before moving to stand at her husband's side.

The elder Veela stared at his son's mate for a moment before nodding his head in greeting. Ever since Lucius had helped him prepare to face Voldemort that last time, they had gotten along fairly well, but Lucius wasn't a man inclined to give away affection willy-nilly. One had to earn his respect, which Harry had, but you also had to deserve his love, to be worthy of his affection. Narcissa was his mate, and Draco was his child by her so both of those automatically qualified. Severus was his only real friend, he had helped Narcissa and Draco while he had been in Azkaban, and even earlier in their lives Severus had been there for their family. Severus deserved to be considered family. When Harry bonded with Draco, when Draco was finally as happy as he could be, then Lucius thought Harry would be worthy of being a Malfoy at last.

"Morning Lucius." Harry said, having grown used to the man's behaviour, he didn't expect a reply. As predicted, Lucius just nodded his head again, and went back to reading the paper. Draco had explained it all to him once, but he had just gotten so overwhelmed he had told Draco not to worry. Harry had suffered through worse behaviour, and he was willing to let Lucius come to terms in his own time.

"Goodbye Harry, dear," Cissa said, as Harry opened the doorway. The portrait closed behind him and Narcissa shot a withering look in Lucius' direction. "You could try a bit more, dear."

"When he has earned it." Lucius said, not looking away from the paper.

_XXX_

April 8th 1998.

By this point, any child who still had a family or a home to return to had gone from Hogwarts. Many of the elder students had chosen to remain on for a little longer and continue to help repair the damage done during the battle. This included many of the sixth and seventh years. All of the Slytherins had been sent home, regardless of whether or not they wanted to stay (except Draco). Those who had no where to go were being kept in the Slytherin common room under the watchful eye of Horace Slughorn, but they weren't allowed to leave, and they had to take their meals down there as well.

Gryffindor Tower was partially empty just then, because people were either still in bed or were already started their tasks for the day. Neville, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting in their common room with Luna. While she wasn't a Gryffindor, she was a core member of Dumbledore's Army and one of Harry's close friends. The other Weasleys were staying at Hogwarts as well, but most of them were so busy they were hardly ever around.

George sat beside the fire, his face alternating between red, orange and white as the flames cast lights over him as it flickered. He didn't look away from the fire as he listened to his only sister bitching, like there was nothing more important in life. Her brother had died, and she could only think about boys!

"I just don't understand it," Ginny whined. "He loves me, I know he does!"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. He may be oblivious at times, but he wasn't a complete idiot. If someone told you twice that they didn't want you; then they didn't want you, it was that simple. Sure, he was annoyed that Harry had dumped his sister, and yeah, he wanted them to be together, but Harry had the right to be happy as well.

"He belongs to someone else." Luna's voice was lyrical, and it caused everyone to turn and look at her.

Ginny frowned. "He belongs with me. He'll understand that. I love him, no one could love him more than I do."

"Yes," Luna said. Ginny smiled, thinking Luna was agreeing with her, until Luna spoke again. "He will love Harry more."

"He?" Neville said softly, his forehead creased in thought. He hadn't really noticed anything about Harry that would have made him think the brunette was gay. He might have been a little bit preoccupied with Malfoy during sixth year, but that was because he was out to kill Dumbledore.

"Yes, he," Luna said dreamily. Her eyes were fixed on the portrait hole and she waved at it just as it opened. "Hello Harry."

"Hey Luna." He gave her a grin, before noticing everyone was looking at him strangely. "Is something wrong, guys?"

"Tell her, Harry!" Ginny demanded at once. "Tell her you aren't gay!" She had stood up from the sofa, and her hands were on her hips as she glared around the room at each of her friends. George looked over to Harry, turning his face away from the fire for the first time since the night before. He had stayed up all night staring at it, afraid to sleep in case he dreamt of Fred.

"There was actually something I needed to talk to you about." He rubbed at his chin nervously, his foot scuffing against the floor. For the first time in a month George felt remotely interested in something other than moping. "Maybe you should sit down Ginny? Hey George, didn't see you there." Harry waved, and everyone turned to stare at the Weasley in surprise: no one had seen him there.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, reaching forward to place her hand on Harry's knee gently. "You can tell us, you know."

Harry took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but Ron spoke before he could. "Yeah, mate, you can tell us, honestly." Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry had to fight back a chuckle as Ron looked gormlessly at her and mouthed, "what?"

"It's a bit complicated."

"Tell us the short version then," Luna suggested. He reached out to squeeze her hand and she smiled reassuringly at him.

"Draco is a Veela. I'm his mate. I've accepted him." Luna giggled and Harry just shrugged at her. Ginny's mouth was opening and closing but no words were coming out. Hermione and Neville had both blushed at the implications of Harry's sentences. Harry and Draco are mates; Harry and Draco would have sex; which one of them would bottom?

"What?" Ron choked out, his throat feeling cloggy and raw all of a sudden. Swallowing became painful for some reason, but he took a deep breath, ignored the strange stinging sensation in his chest and asked again, "what the fucking hell?"

"Maybe you should have gone with the complicated version?" Luna said with another giggle.

"Yeah, maybe." Neville said, shooting Harry an encouraging smile.

"Lucius is a Veela. So is Draco. He came into his inheritance when he turned sixteen, but he only realized I was his mate during the last year or so. There were signs, subtle hints, but nothing out right. There's something wrong with the bond. My soul isn't calling to his like it's meant to. I can't feel him, but he can almost feel me; his side will become clearer when the bond is in place. I've accepted him. Mainly for the fact that I can't just watch him die and do nothing, but also because I've grown to care for him. He's all I've thought about for a long time now, and yes Hermione, you were right, I was and still am obsessed with Draco Malfoy."

She grinned at that confession but then her expression turned serious. "I want to be cynical and accuse Malfoy of lying to you, of trying to use or hurt you, but Veela would never lie about their mates. If he says that you are his mate then you must be. What concerns me is the lack of progress on your side of the bond. You don't think your scar could be affecting it do you?"

"Well my scar connected me with Voldemort, but he's dead." Harry said, frowning.

"So it doesn't hurt any more then?" Neville asked, his eyes narrowed on Harry's forehead. "It looks a bit red."

"It actually still does hurt sometimes. I just thought it wasn't important." Harry rubbed at the scar thoughtfully. "I've had it for more than sixteen years, and Voldemort's only been dead a month. Maybe the scar needs time to realize that?"

"Oh Harry." Hermione said, her bottom lip trembling. "I think, if we find a way to get rid of the scar then you'd be able to feel your part of the Veela call. But why would the scar still hurt?" She stood up, and was probably about to rush to the library to research everything about Veela's and their soul call but Ginny's question stopped her.

"Why would you help him feel the call?" The redheaded girl frowned, her face paler than usual.

"Because then Harry can bond with Malfoy, and he won't die." Neville said, turning to look at Harry. The brunette nodded slightly and Neville looked relieved that he hadn't said the right thing.

"Why though? Who cares if Malfoy dies? Why are you helping him, Hermione?" Ginny's voice had suddenly grown high pitched, the words had taken on a shrieking quality. She stood up again, her eyes glaring at the bushy haired girl.

"I'm helping Harry."

"Why?" She hissed again. "Harry's obviously abandoning us all for Malfoy, why should we help him?"

Luna winced. "Because he's our friend. That's what friends do."

"He sacrificed a lot for us, Ginny, the least we can do is be a little nicer around Malfoy." Ron felt like he had swallowed a ton of sand, but he got the words out eventually. Harry beamed at him so brightly that Ron immediately felt better about having to say 'nice' in the same sentence as 'Malfoy'.

"And what about what I sacrificed?" She sniffled, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. "I gave him my heart. Aren't I more important than Malfoy?" She looked at her brother.

Ron turned his face away from her, his eyes falling on the despondent form of his brother. "This is Malfoy's life we're talking about Ginny, not his heart. He could die."

"Who cares? Let him die." She shouted. Her hand came out to slap Ron, but George grabbed it. Angrily, he squeezed her wrist until she gasped and dropped, defeated, back onto the couch.

"Let him die?" George asked. His voice was gravely, as if he had been screaming for a long time, or if he hadn't spoken in a while; either could have been possible, Harry thought, looking at him. George looked a mess. His eyes were sunken and his skin was almost grey in colour, his hair lank and he had lost weight so now his clothes were hanging off him.

"What if it were Fred? Would you let Fred die?" Ginny opened her mouth, but George squeezed her wrist again. "Wait, Fred's already dead. But that doesn't matter does it, because you're so busy moping and moaning over Harry like a bitch in heat. Not that I blame you," he started to sneer, his voice sounding more sarcastic than sincere now, "Harry is a fine piece of man meat. I think I might just make a play for him myself. If, you know, I wasn't mourning for our brother." He threw her arm away from him and stalked back to his seat by the fire.

Silently, Harry moved away from his friends. He sat behind George, one arm around the red heads neck and the other around his waist. George cried for the first time since Fred died, and Harry held him. Tears dripped onto George's neck, and the red head smiled because he wasn't the only one in pain.

_XXX_

April 8th 1998. That evening.

"How did it go?" Draco asked as he followed Harry into the Great Hall. The elder Malfoys were in front of them, Narcissa's hand cupping Lucius' elbow. No body sat at the House Tables anymore, instead they congregated around their family or friends; those they felt safe with.

Harry's friends stood as one, waving at him from the Gryffindor table. "Better than I expected," Harry said with a grin as Hermione ran towards him. He caught her in a hug, one hand reaching out to squeeze Draco's hand comfortingly. The blond was, at first, irritated and jealous that someone else was touching his mate, but when Harry took his hand he relaxed slightly. He was taken by surprise when Hermione pulled him into a hug, crushing him against her for a moment before letting go.

"Welcome to the family." Hermione said with a smile.

Draco's eyebrows drew together in confusion, knowing full well that none of those people were relatives of Harry's. "There is a family you are born to," Harry said softly as he glanced back at the Gryffindor table. "And there is the family you make for yourself. I got lucky there." He squeezed Draco's hand again. The Weasley family were sitting with his friends, as well as what was left of the Order of the Phoenix. Ginny wasn't there, he noticed, but George was.

Draco pulled his mother after him, and Lucius followed his mate. Harry sat down first, next to George with Draco on his other side, followed by Narcissa and Lucius. Many of the people at the table gave them dirty looks or suspicious glances, but Harry's family had already been told by his friends, and each of them were as courteous as they could be towards the Malfoys. Lucius just nodded at them in turn, but Narcissa and Draco attempted to make meaningless conversation with the others.

George leant closer to Harry when Draco wasn't looking. "I meant what I said, you know," he smiled as he spoke, and it looked so strange on the face of this pale, thin stranger, "you are a fine piece of man meat." Ron, who had been eavesdropping, spat out his pumpkin juice and the elder Weasley brothers laughed at the look of indignation of Kingsley's wet face. "Oh Ron, you had that coming." George said, not smiling this time. His attention remained on Harry, and it became obvious that Harry was the only one he would willingly talk to. If he was asked a question by any of the others, he would grunt or shrug or shake his head, but he would ask Harry questions first. "I'm glad you're my friend," George said quietly, his mouth brushing against Harry's ear.

"Me too." Harry grinned back at him. His eyes narrowed however, when Ginny glanced over at them from the Hufflepuff table and she sneered at her brother. "She'll get over it, right?"

"No doubt." Hermione declared with a delicate sniff. "But anyway, Harry, I've been meaning to tell you. I think I might have a way to deal with your scar." Her nose twitched as she thought hard for a moment. "We could use a dark arts purification ritual, or a potion which will remove all traces and effects of dark magic from a person. It might help remove whatever part of the curse scar is linked to your soul."

"Sure, Mione, let me know and I'm willing to do anything."

"Yeah, he trusts you." Ron grinned and nudged his girlfriend. "Don't know why though. Completely evil, you are." She glared at him and Harry smiled softly.

He was going to say something more, but a reddish-brown owl swept into the hall and dropped a letter onto Harry's plate.

"Don't touch it!" Hermione shouted, her wand pointed at the letter. "It could be cursed." She waved her wand and the letter flashed blue, indicating it hadn't been cursed or tampered with. Harry picked it up and read it.

"Where did you learn those spells?" Narcissa asked curiously. They were all dark, and they were very advanced.

"I grew extremely competent at de-cursing letters during fourth year when everyone thought I was Harry's girlfriend but I was cheating on him with Viktor." Ron mumbled something about 'Vicky' but Hermione chose to ignore him. "Well, Harry, who is it from?"

"Andromeda." He grinned, "Teddy's birthday is in four days. We have to go buy him something."

"Yeah, Harry you need to get some clothes too, mate." Neville said with a teasing grin.

"Am I not wearing clothes?" He asked, teasing back, and picking at his shirt. "Or am I imagining clothing?"

"You're imagining it." Luna said softly. "You really are naked, you know." Ron stuck his tongue out and shuddered. They were brothers; he had no wish to think of Harry naked. Or with Malfoy. The blond was looking at Harry intently now, his eyes running over every inch of the brunette.

"You are sufficiently clothed," he said at last, "I have no need to be jealous."

"Of course you don't." Hermione said sternly, glaring between Neville and Luna. "Harry is your mate, he chose you. Those two are just immature." The Gryffindor looked down at the table with a blush on his cheeks, but Luna just smiled vacantly at the Veela.

"It was nice to meet you," she said, standing up. She skipped away from the table, waving over her shoulder. "I want to come to the party, Harry." She called back before she left the Hall.

"Hasn't she already met them? She spent the best part of last year locked in their dungeon." Ron glared at Lucius.

"She's forgiven them, obviously, Ronald!" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "I'll be in the library." She stood, and left the hall. Ron followed her with a sheepish grin at Harry.

"They are-" Narcissa tried to think of a kind word that would describe Harry's friends. They had left the Great Hall a little while ago and were now making their way back to the Slytherin Head Boy dorms where Draco's family lived.

"Different, I know." He smiled. "But they're family."

"May I see the letter from my sister?" Cissa asked as she sank down into the sofa beside her husband. There were two sofas in the common room, and Draco and Harry took the other one, the blond automatically leaning against his mate's side. Harry handed her the letter.

_**Dearest Harry, (April 7**__**th**__** 1998), **_

_**Hello my child. I know it was only recently that I was at the school, but we already miss you. So I send heartfelt greetings from both Teddy and myself. **_

_**As you know, Teddy will be one-years-old in a number of days. Molly has agreed to help me throw a small party for him, just family. Of course, you are the first person I'm inviting. **_

_**I wish you would reconsider, my boy. I'm not as young as I was; far too old to care for a baby, and my dear Nymphandora thought of you as very much a brother. Remus loved you like a son. They would have wanted you to care for their son. It isn't that I don't want him, I do, very much, but you would be better for him. I know you are young, but you have many more people to help you than I do. **_

_**Anyway, there is no need to buy Teddy anything, though knowing you you'll spoil the poor boy. By all means, spend as you wish, but he will love you even if he received nothing. You are family, Harry. And we both love you as such, even if I look a little too much like Bellatrix! **_

_**Invite your friends, dear. They are family too. I look forward to seeing you, as does Teddy. He's spent the past week with black hair and green eyes you know. **_

_**Reconsider. All my love, and affection, **_

_**Andromeda Tonks.**_

Narcissa smiled at her son's mate. Inside, she was confused, but she didn't let it show on the outside. "You know my sister?"

"Yeah, her daughter was in the Order, she married my godfather. The first time I met Andromeda I thought she was Bellatrix and tried to attack her." Harry smiled faintly at the memory, before he frowned. "Teddy is their child, Tonks' and my godfather's I mean."

"The werewolf?" Lucius asked, his voice neutral. Harry nodded. "I see."

"What was that about his eyes and his hair?" Draco asked as he took the letter off of his mother and read it for himself.

"He's a Metamorphimaus, like his mother. He can change his hair and eye colour and shift his facial features a little. Tonks used to turn her nose into a pigs snout, it used to be so funny."

"Are you going to the party?" Draco asked softly.

"Of course. I have to get Teddy something first, but yeah, and I'm sure the others are coming too. When I tell them. You can come as well."

"It's a private party, Harry." Narcissa reminded him.

"She said family only. You are her sister you know, and Draco, you'd be Teddy's second cousin." He shrugged. "I'm sure Andy won't mind."

"I'd go," Draco said, at the same time his mother said, "we'll see."

_XXX_

April 9th 1998. Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley had been up and running since the moment Voldemort was defeated. Books about, and posters of, Harry were suddenly appearing on all the shelves at Flourish and Blotts. There were action figures of Harry riding the Firebolt at the Quidditch store. Robes with 'POTTER' sewn onto the back of them were available at Madame Malkins. It was pandemonium, but people didn't expect Harry to be out and about so soon, so most of them over looked the group of friends. The handful of people who noticed them were kept away by Draco's glare or a handy little spell Hermione knew.

Harry, as well as Draco, and his friends were half way through their shopping trip. Ginny had agreed to come, but she spent most of her time glaring at Draco's head, instead of shopping. Most of his friends had found something to give Teddy but Harry wanted his gift to be _special_. He wanted Teddy to feel the same way about a gift from him as Harry felt when he thought about Sirius buying him a Firebolt.

"What about this?" Ron pointed at the window of the Quality Quidditch Supplies store.

There was an advertisement in the window for the newest line of brooms, the Lightening Strike. "I think Teddy is a bit young. Though I might get one for myself." He turned away from the store, and his eyes landed on the window display of the potions shop. He frowned as he walked towards it, almost drawn to the bold printed flyer in the window.

**The Best Memory Money Can Buy**, it read and he leant closer to read the small print. **Afraid of forgetting? Worried about remembering? Why not save your memories? With the Memoraflux Potion memories can be turned into photographs and stored in this special album. For an extra Galleon, a name, or a family tree can be inscribed on the front cover. See in store for further details.**

"What about that?" Harry asked. He didn't wait for an answer before he walked inside. He found the owner of the apocrathy almost immediately. They nodded at each other, and Harry waited patiently until the Wizard had finished serving the other customer.

"How can I help you, sir?"

"How much is the Memoraflux potion and how does it work?"

"Eighteen Galleons, sir." That would be about £90 sterling. "You pour a little of the potion onto a page in the album and then you think hard about a particular memory, and the potion will automatically create three photos per page about that memory. They will not move. Each page should have a different memory, and each will need a drop of the potion. The potion will last for the whole album. Any album can be used, but more of the Memoraflux potion will need to be purchased. It is ten Galleons for the potion on its own."

"Could I have one please? And could you have 'Teddy Lupin, April 12 1997' inscribed on the front please?"

"That will be nineteen galleons." Harry handed the money over, and the shopkeeper went to do as he was asked.

Harry's friends had waited outside of the store, and they all gathered around him to see what he had bought when he came back outside. He showed them, and Ron and Hermione immediately offered to help him fill some of the pages. "You should ask the order members too!" Hermione said.

"Oi, Malfoy, did your parents ever meet Ted Tonks?"

"Once." Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "Though I doubt it was a pleasant experience. You might want to not include that memory."

"Whatever," Ron said with a roll of his eyes. "I was only asking."

"Are we finished then?" Luna asked with a smile. "I think it's time to be getting back. We don't want to miss it."

"Miss what?" They asked together. Ginny even got over her anger long enough to be curious.

"The memorial is being erected today." She frowned at them all. "Don't you read the Quibbler anymore?" She looked exasperated with them for a second before she seemed to let it pass away and she smiled again. "Harry should go get George."

When they arrived at Diagon Alley, George had left them saying he had to check on business. It had been closed for the last two months of the war, and it was the last place he and Fred had felt truly safe. Now, he stood outside, just looking up on a part of his life that used to be happy. He wasn't a part of that life anymore, he thought. He heard Harry calling him, and he unwillingly left Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and made his way back to the group of friends.

They appeared at Hogwarts a good hour later, having flooed to Hogsmeade and then walked to the school. A large crowd had congregated around the black lake. The group slowed as they were walking past. Draco spotted Severus and his parents and pulled Harry towards them. The Weasley's and Hermione went to the rest of the red haired family and Luna and Neville found their father and grandmother standing side by side.

Beside the lake, beneath the shade of a tree that Harry had always been fond of sitting under was now a statue. It wasn't overly large like the Fountain of Magical Brethren in the Ministry, now was it like the one in Godric's Hollow. It was just over six feet tall, slightly taller than Harry himself, and was standing on a flat cylindrical base. The statue was of Harry. He was made of solid marble, with a scar, glasses and the Gryffindor scarf around his neck. His hand was outstretched, and it was holding two wands. One was of holly, and the other was made of yew. Harry's and Voldemort's wand. His marble robes spread out behind him, as if it were windy or he had been running. His eyes were studded with chips of emeralds and he was smiling.

Harry, himself, groaned at the sight. It was just what he needed; more hero-worship. Draco elbowed him in the ribs, and Harry chuckled, before reading the inscription.

There were words carved into the squat base that Harry stood on. It read:

_March 24__th__ 1998. _

_Life Goes On And It's Only Going To Make Me Strong._

Harry met the eyes of his friends from across the crowd and they all smiled at each other. He felt Draco squeeze his hand and he squeezed back lightly. They were alive, and it was over. They were as safe as they had ever been since that night in 1981 when Harry defeated Voldemort for the first time.

When the crowd noticed that Harry was there, they all cheered. Harry smiled, blushed, but accepted it in stride, because he had finally grown up to know that some people just needed heroes to worship, just like others needed villains to follow. But that was life.

**XXX**

ALSO, Dumbledore was good, but misguided just like in canon, in this fiction. He really did say, "you disgust me" to Snape in DH. The memories from the last scene were from DH, not from another fiction like someone accused.

Thanks for reading. Go check out BLACK COMPLICATION, I actually updated it.


	6. Blood Red Lining

I've been too pissed off to write lately, so that is why there wasn't an update for The Lambs last weekend

NOTE: Yes, I mentioned m-preg, but this will NOT be an m-preg fiction. I already have two of those on the go.

I've been too pissed off to write lately, so that is why there wasn't an update for The Lambs last weekend. Teddy's birthday party makes me a little happier, so that's what I'm writing first. If anyone has a problem with this, blame Brian Lennihan!

Also, in response to a review for the last chapter, Harry doesn't expect Lucius to prove anything to him because that's just his character. Even in canon, Harry performed feats to win people's approval but he never expected anything back from them. He spent most of his life emotionally neglected, and as such he's happy enough to be cared about, no questions asked.

**Words: **6,304

**Chapter 6**

**Blood Red Lining**

April 11th 1998.

The silver album was laid out in front of him, the front cover opened to reveal the first page. Harry smiled softly as he opened the vial. Its contents sloshed around inside the glass container, the color of it reflecting the light through the glass and sparkling wildly. Harry tipped the vial, allowing two drops of the liquid to land on the page. Immediately the Memoraflux potion absorbed into the page and the parchment turned a dove-gray color.

Harry closed his eyes. One finger was barely touching the page of the photo album, and he thought hard about the memories he wanted to share with his godson.

_A crashing sound echoed from the hallway, and every member of the Order ran to investigate the noise. Many of them had their wands held out, ready to face the threat awaiting them. Remus rolled his eyes, and Harry and Sirius both chuckled loudly. On the floor by the door, was Nymphandora Tonks, her face as pink as her hair. She had tripped over the umbrella stand again. Remus, as well as being embarrassed for her, was watching her fondly. It was almost two years before they would get together, but even then, apparently, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. _

Harry opened his eyes and looked down at the page. There were three photos on it. The first was of Tonks, on the ground, pink hair and face, but grinning wildly. The second was the Order members watching her, Harry himself and Sirius were the prominent figures, clutching their stomachs and laughing uproariously. The third was of Remus. He watched his future wife with a fond smile that reached his eyes, and his cheeks were tinged red with embarrassment. The brunette teenager ran his fingers over the faces in the pictures fondly and turned the page.

He poured more of the potion onto the page and closed his eyes again.

_Sirius had just died and Harry hated the way it made him feel. Remus had wrote to him earlier, and he was packed and ready, just waiting to be taken away from the Dursleys. Remus appeared in the doorway, a grin on his face, but his eyes were dull. Tonks followed him into the room. Her hair was a dull brown color and Harry frowned, wondering if she had loved Sirius just as much as him, but then her gaze traveled to Remus and her hair turned blond. But he looked away, and she was suddenly a brunette again. It dawned on Harry then, that Tonks was sad because Remus was. Sure, she missed her cousin, but she was hurt and upset that Remus was shutting her out. Harry hadn't missed the way Remus' face softened when he watched Tonks, but only when the girl wasn't looking. _

"_She loves me," the werewolf said suddenly, once Tonks had left the room. _

"_Do you love her?"_

"_I'm not good enough for her." Remus answered. _

The first of these three photos was of Remus standing in front of Harry. Harry was sitting on the bed, looking very morose and Remus didn't look much better despite the fact that he was grinning. It looked false. Tonks was in the next picture, watching Remus with wide, hopeful eyes, but her hair was still that sad, depressed brown color. In the third picture, Remus was watching Tonks walk out of the door, and Harry was watching Remus with a frown. It probably wasn't the happiest set of pictures, but Harry felt they were important. That was when Harry realized that two people he loved loved each other.

He made more memories, and then he went to Hermione and Ron, and each of them helped. Hermione gave him memories of Remus as the third year Defense professor and Ron shared memories of Tonks during Order meetings, since he spent every summer at the same house as her since Voldemort returned. They rounded up some of the other professors, who had worked with the couple, or who had taught them, and each of the other adults allowed Harry to use the Memoraflux potion on them. When they were done, the album was half full, and there was more than three quarters of the vial of potion left.

"Lucius, Narcissa?" Harry called as he pushed open the portrait of the yellow brick road. No body answered him. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

Draco appeared from their room, and he waved Harry forward. Both of his parents were in Draco's room, each of them looking through Harry's clothes. Everything he had bought in Diagon Alley the other day was on display in the room: draped over the bed and chairs, handing from the door or the hooks on the walls used for portraits.

"What are you doing?" He was more confused than annoyed.

"I needed to see if I had anything that would match something of yours, for tomorrow night." Draco explained, giving the brunette a hug and a peck on the cheek. "I didn't want our outfits to clash."

Harry chuckled. "Draco. It's a part for a one year old. He won't notice if you came in green and I came in red."

"Red and green should never be seen, Harry." Narcissa offered up, leaning back on his bed, with a grin on her face. He rolled her eyes at her and she offered him a shrug, but she didn't argue with her son.

"You're demented." Harry said finally and took a seat on his bed, next to Lucius. There was one bed, and half of it was covered with clothing, so he didn't really have a choice of where to sit unless he wanted to try the floor. The elder blond didn't so much as glance at him. His eyes were fixed on the silver album that Harry had placed down on the vanity table.

"May I?" He asked. Draco passed the book over when Harry nodded. Lucius flipped through it, with Narcissa watching over his shoulder as the picture changed. It wasn't in any particular order, but Hermione had hand written small notes at the bottom of each page, naming the people in the pictures and the dates. There were pictures from when the Marauders were children, from when they graduated, some of the professors had even been at Lily and James' wedding, and at Tonks and Remus'. Some photos were from when Remus taught at Hogwarts, and from the Order meetings, and some were of Tonks' childhood since she went to Hogwarts as well, some were of her work at the Ministry.

"I haven't got any of Andy or Ted yet, but I thought I could give her the potion and she could fill the rest of the book up." Harry said quickly.

"We met him once, her husband Ted." Narcissa said softly. "It wasn't a pleasant experience." She glanced at Lucius, who only rolled his eyes in reply.

"I suppose you'll want it." Lucius drawled, turning the pages again so it was a blank one staring up at him.

"If you don't mind." Harry pulled the vial from his pocket and poured two drops onto the page. "Touch it with your finger and think about the memory." He instructed, and Lucius did as he was asked.

_Lucius sneered at the couple that stood at the front of the church. A Muggle church: how plebian. Narcissa sat stiffly beside him, the Muggle beside her kept scratching at his crotch then sniffing his hand. She winced as he grinned at her, and Lucius shot him a glare before turning back to watch the couple. Andromeda Black and Ted Tonks, a Muggle, were getting married. Sirius Black and Narcissa were the only family members from her side to attend. Nearly everyone the Muggle knew was there, so half of them were sitting on the bride's side of the church, which was unfortunate._

_Andromeda looked beautiful. Lucius could admit that, despite the fact that she reminded him of Narcissa's crazy other sister Bellatrix. Ted was a Muggle, there was nothing else Lucius could say about him. When the ceremony ended, the couple left first. They stood in the doorway of the church, shaking hands with their guests and accepting hugs and well wishes. _

_Andromeda stopped Narcissa on the way out, and pulled her younger sister against her. Her eyes were fixed on Lucius over the blond woman's shoulder. "Be careful," she whispered. _

"_It is you that need be careful, sister." Narcissa said, pulling away. Her eyes flittered towards Ted, who stood awkwardly beside them. "This is my husband Lucius," she introduced to the sister who hadn't attended her own wedding a few months ago. _

"_It's a pleasure to meet you. This is my husband Ted." Ted held his hand out but Lucius merely looked him up and down with a sneer. _

"_I am expected to touch it?" He mock whispered to his wife, not caring that any one could hear. Ted reared back as if he had been slapped and Andromeda looked horrified. _

"_How can you be married to him!" She hissed. _

"_At least he isn't a Muggle!" She hissed back, her face pale and her hands clenched around the sleeve of Lucius' robe. That was the last time she spoke to her sister; not that Lucius mourned that fact or anything. _

Of course, there were three more pictures now. The first was of the couple standing at the alter, waiting to say their vows. The second picture was of the sister's hugging – their last moment of affection, of family. The final picture was of Lucius spurning Ted's hand, and Andromeda shouting at her sister. Narcissa looked nothing like she did now; she was cold and cruel looking, a little like she had been at the Quidditch world cup.

"We never met their daughter." She said softly as Harry turned to look at her. Lucius bit his tongue so he wouldn't say anything disparaging. He closed the book and handed it to his son's mate.

There was a tense silence in the room for the minutes after Harry put the album away. Even Draco was quiet and still, his eyes flickering uncertainly towards his mate. Harry cleared his throat, and broke the tense atmosphere. "So, I'm useless with clothes. Which one of you is dressing me for tomorrow?"

_XXX_

April 12th 1998. Teddy's Birthday.

The Tonks' home had never been placed under the Fidelius Charm or any other secrecy spells. Now that the war was over, Andromeda felt no need to start placing any such charm around her home. The modest, Muggle home was filled with chatter and laughter and anyone who knew Remus or Tonks. Each person took turns cuddling Teddy and giving him a gift, which his grandmother insisted he was not to open until the end of the night.

When Harry finally arrived, it caused a bit of a stir.

His friends had flooed over from Hogwarts first. "Children!" Andromeda greeted, pulling Hermione and Ron into a quick hug and smiling at the others. Ginny's eyes scanned the room, searching for Harry but not finding him. She figured this was the last place the Malfoys would go so she'd have Harry to herself for most of the night. "He isn't here yet." Andromeda said, noticing what the girl was doing.

Neville and Ron went away from the other, placing all of their gifts on the table with the others, before heading to the refreshments table. George stayed with Hermione and Andromeda while Ginny began to walk through the room, searching for Harry and not taken the other woman's word for it. Harry was very good at hiding when he wanted to be, and Ginny knew him better than that bitch anyway.

The floo came to life and Draco's blond head was easily recognizable. Hermione smiled in his direction, hesitantly, but warmly and he smiled back before turning in time to catch Harry as he stumbled into the fireplace. Draco dragged him out of the heath just in time for Lucius and Narcissa to floo in together.

"It's rude to block the floo, Harry," Lucius said softly as the brunette dusted himself down. Draco shot his father a look but Lucius ignored it.

"Hey Andy!" Harry called, turning to make his way towards her. "It's ok that they came right? I mean they are Teddy's family too, and I'm Draco's mate so I'd be spending a lot of time with them anyway." Andromeda dragged Harry against her, and held him tight. Her eyes were on the blond family, assessing each one individually and she was pleased to notice the tensing of the youngest's shoulders when she held on to Harry just a moment too long.

She let him go and smiled. "He cares for you." She nodded at Draco.

"He loved me. And I care for him a lot too."

"It's ok that they are here. Now, Teddy," she called looking around, "say hello to Uncle Harry."

Teddy didn't answer, and when they spotted him he was standing, wobbly, by Draco's feet trying to climb up the blond's leg. Draco swallowed heavily but bent down obediently and picked the baby up. Teddy gave a squeal and his hands fisted into Draco's hair, his own hair turning the same shade instantly. His amber eyes locked on Harry's face as the brunette walked towards them, and they turned green. Draco grinned at the sight. If he didn't know for certain, he would have said the child was his and Harry's.

Harry's eyes softened but Draco could tell that something about Teddy being held by him was making Harry sad. Narcissa cooed over the child and even Lucius looked momentarily interested by the sight of a child whose distinguishing features reminded him of his son and his son's mate.

"Can he open his gift now?" Harry asked, handing over the album.

"Of course." Andromeda led them towards a couch and Draco sat down first, Teddy still in his arms. Harry sat beside him and Andromeda handed her grandson the brightly wrapped package. "This is from Uncle Harry." She said. "Say thank you."

"Ta, ta," the boy said, clapping his hands together. He reached out and Draco helped him remove the paper. On the front of the silver album were the words 'Teddy Lupin, April 12 1997' and beneath that was a small picture of a wolf lying curled around what looked like a pixie.

"A Nymph," Harry explained with a grin. He opened the first page for the child. "That's your mummy," he pointed at Tonks, "and that's your daddy." Teddy grinned up at him, and leant away from Draco for a moment to give Harry a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday, baby."

The party started winding down about 7pm, which was when Teddy was put to bed. Harry had offered to do it and when he came back he looked upset again. Draco wanted to talk to him, but every time he got near his mate one of the other's would find him just a second sooner. With a scowl he walked away, leaving Harry with George.

"So," the redhead said. His voice was still raw, out of use. "How have you been?"

"The same as I was three days ago, I guess." Harry looked a little confused, but he had stopped dwelling on his upsetting thoughts, so he supposed George's strange behaviour was a silver lining of some kind. "And yourself?"

"I was thinking about you, you know." George moved closer to him, until they were almost flush against one another. Harry took a step back, his eyes wide. "I've missed you Harry. You, me and F-Fr-Fred," he managed to choke out the name, "we used to have fun together didn't we? Maybe you could help me invent things now if you aren't going back to school?"

"Yeah, but I probably will. You know, I want to finish my education mainly because Mione might kill me if I don't." George chuckled, and moved closer to him again.

Across the room, Draco noticed and narrowed his eyes. He started to make his way towards his mate.

George's lips were next to Harry's ear when he next spoke, and the feel of his breath caressing his skin made Harry shudder and think of Draco. "We should get together some time, hang out, and have some fun. Merlin knows I need fun." He pulled back, and his eyes were glued to Harry's lips. The brunette looked a little disorientated when George leaned closer but didn't speak. The redhead licked his lips but before he could act Draco's scathing voice broke through his haze.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" He took hold of Harry's arm and dragged the brunette away. "What is with you and Weasleys? Do they all try to get you into bed or is it just the younger ones?"

"What?" Harry asked with wide eyes. "It's not like that. He's lonely since Fred died and I was close to the Twins."

"Close," Draco repeated with a snort. He pushed Harry down onto the sofa, and sat beside him, leaning against his Dominant's side. "Why were you sad earlier?"

"I was just thinking of Teddy." Draco waited patiently. He thought Harry might say, he felt bad because Teddy didn't have parents, or because Teddy reminded him of himself, but Harry didn't say either of those. "I never realized how badly I wanted children until I realize I couldn't have them."

Draco looked momentarily horrified before he wiped all expression off of his face. He looked at his mate and sighed, "Were you cursed? Is that why you can't have a child?" He sounded so sincere that Harry couldn't even force a laugh.

"Draco," he breathed rubbing the blond's cheek. "We're both male."

"But I'm a Veela." The blond said it as if it was common knowledge, and Harry supposed it might have been, not that anyone had told him about it. Sure he had been reading books about Veela, but he obviously hadn't gotten to the chapters on reproduction. "All submissive male Veela grow a uterus when they come into their inheritance. They don't menstruate but they are very capable of having children. We can have children, Harry." His own hand was tracing circles on Harry's thighs and the brunette grinned at him.

"We can have kids, really?"

"Yes." Draco said softly. Harry leaned towards him, his lips pulled up in a soft smile and he pressed them against Draco's with a moan. The blond melted into his touch, and when they finally pulled apart Draco was in Harry's lap, with his hands tangled into Harry's hair. He pulled back with a flush. "But not right now, ok? We should at least graduate first."

"Of course," Harry immediately agreed. He was finally allowed to live his life, and not to be unkind, but he had no wish for his life to suddenly revolve around a child. The knowledge that he could, when they were ready, have a child instantly removed the doubts that had started when he agreed to mate with Draco. They could have children: he wasn't giving anything up to be with the blond. He kissed Draco again and held the blond tighter against him. Draco snuggled against his chest, pleased to have pleased his mate.

Ginny watched them with narrowed eyes, and George watched them as well, but his gaze was more curious than angry. A small smile pulled at his lips and he wondered if he would ever be as happy as they looked. Then again, he thought, Harry generally made people happy.

Some people chose to floo home, and some people chose to apparate. Of course Teddy's grandfather had been Muggle, so any Muggle friends of the family chose to walk home or take a cab or a bus. The floo was in a room that was charmed so the Muggles wouldn't notice it, and each of them assumed these strange people had already been there when they arrived. He watched them as they left, in groups of twos and threes, or alone. A grin split his face as he caught sight of the child waving from Harry Potter's arms. Harry closed the door and he snarled violently into the night, his teeth bared through parted lips.

That boy was his. That boy would be his soon.

Remus might not have been an active member of his pack, but he had sired Remus nonetheless, and this was Remus' cub. The child belonged with what was left of his pack. Potter, certainly, shouldn't have the boy. Horrible, bespectacled human that he was; defeating the Dark Lord and ruining all of his fun.

Fenrir Greyback snarled again, before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

_XXX_

April 14th 1998.

Fenrir paced the length of the driveway. He knew it was foolish to stand out in the open, right in front of the house, but it was too dark for anyone to see him, and he was angry and impatient.

"Where are those fools?" He growled.

When Voldemort was defeated, not all of the Death Eaters had been rounded up. Many of his pack were captured or killed, but some had escaped and they were with him now, crouching behind bushes and cars, waiting. The Death Eaters that weren't taken, or driven into hiding were supposed to be with him. But they were late.

He had found them, hiding in squalor and he had taunted them, insulted them, wounded their pride until they were as willing as he was to destroy Harry Potter and reign down anarchy on the Wizarding World. Not that the Wizards knew he had planned that. They would never agree to destroy their own world, but Fenrir wasn't above lying to achieve his own ends. He hated the so-called superior world of the Wizards and Witches that rejected his kind. He had been one of them once, rich and important and bigoted, until he had been bitten and his life had changed so ultimately that he hadn't ever looked back. Except once. Just long enough to kill his family. But then, he was no longer one of them.

They were the enemy.

They hunted werewolves, and destroyed packs, and castrated his kind so they couldn't breed like 'normal' people. And now, they had taken one of his pack out of his care. Fenrir would have the boy back.

Several 'pops' echoed through the street, and five men in white masks and black robes appeared in front of the werewolf.

"Fenrir," three greeted in sync. The other two nodded. Fenrir would never expect himself to being called 'Lord'; that place was reserved for people stupider than those who followed them. Only fools built up an army that they couldn't control. Fenrir would be content with just three five and his own pack.

"Let's go." He ordered gruffly. They already knew what they were meant to do, and they knew he would tolerate no mistakes.

_XXX_

April 14th 1998. Same time.

He was sweating, but he still felt so cold. Harry trembled, his arms wrapping around himself, trying to conserve his body heat. Sweat dripped off the end of his nose, and ran down from his hair over his ears and cheeks. He wiped it away furiously and shuddered. He knew where he was, he was outside Andromeda's house, but this shouldn't be happening. He hadn't had a dream like this since Voldemort had recognized their connection.

A tear leaked from the corner of one eye as he watched the man growl and break down the front door. He followed them, careful to stay out of reach just in case one of them knew about his old connection with Voldemort and could sense him.

Voldemort was gone, he reminded himself. This is probably just a scarily realistic nightmare.

Somehow, he had gotten inside of the house before the Death Eaters. His eyes locked on Teddy. The boy was red faced, and he was trying to cry but Andromeda had a hand closed over his mouth, muffling any noise he made. "Ssh," she kept saying, rocking him lightly.

Harry ran after her as she sprinted towards Nymphandora's room. She locked the door after herself. She put Teddy down and shushed him again, before dragging Tonks' desk into the middle of the room. She stood on the desk and pushed back one of the tiles in the ceiling. It revealed a smallish square hole, just big enough for Harry to squeeze through but not Andromeda. She grabbed her grandson and pushed him up into the attic. "I love you precious." She whispered, "don't cry. Be brave and stay really quite for me." She pulled the tile back into place and cast a Notice-Me-Not spell on the area.

She left the room then, leaving it open behind her because a locked door is always suspicious, and ran to her own bedroom. She was a second away from throwing the floo powder into the fireplace when a hand closed around her wrist.

"Uh, huh, uh." A voice cooed.

"Jannson," someone shouted. "Have you found them?"

"In the master room," Jannson yelled back. He squeezed Andromeda's wrist, and with a gasp she dropped the handful of floo powder she had been holding. The green powder fluttered down onto the carpet and Andromeda allowed a tear to fall as eight other men entered the room. Bringing up the rear, and possibly the scariest of them all, was Fenrir Greyback.

Harry started screaming soon after, begging for it to stop, hoping to wake up and be able to save her, but he just kept dreaming. It didn't take much longer for Andromeda to start screaming. Nobody heard Teddy crying over the screams.

In the bed, Draco jolted awake and instantly tried to calm his mate down. It took a further ten minutes of screaming to wake the elder Malfoys and by that point Harry's scar was bleeding profusely. His arms were flailing, and his fingers were scratching at his forehead. His eyes were squeezed closed but tears still managed to leak past his eyelids and Draco wiped them away with distress.

"What's wrong with him?" Draco shouted.

Lucius hurried to the bed and pinned one of his arms down. Narcissa grabbed the other arm. "Try and wake him." Lucius ordered. With a blush Draco bent down to place a kiss on Harry's lips.

"Wake up, love." He whispered, his voice shaking.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he screamed when he realized he couldn't move his arms. Immediately Lucius and Narcissa let go and Harry jerked up into a sitting position. His eyes flew wildly around the room, bloodshot and red. He took one look at Draco, and remembered what Teddy had looked like with Draco's hair colour, and leapt off the bed. He stumbled, but kept going. The Malfoys watched him run from the room and it only took him twenty seconds before he was on his feet and chasing after his distraught mate.

Draco found him, banging his fists against the stone gargoyle that protected the Head teacher's rooms. The Gargoyle jumped aside when Draco appeared, obviously reluctant to let the boy go alone. Harry burst into the office, ignoring he fact that he might have woken Professor McGonagall up from her sleep and he threw the powder into the fireplace. The fire lit up, and he called out the destination. Draco followed him without hesitation.

The elder Malfoys had caught up and they were just entering the fireplace when Minerva appeared, rubbing at her eyes. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

"Harry had a nightmare, he woke us up screaming." Narcissa said breathlessly. Lucius was about to say something offensive but the way Minerva's face paled had his breath catching in his throat.

"What is it?" He asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"This can't be happening. Not again." Her hands were pressed to her chest and the portrait of Albus Dumbledore sighed morosely but held his tongue. It was not his place to tell Harry something that Harry needed to learn for himself. "Where did he go?"

Narcissa spoke the destination and the flames sprang to life. She and her husband disappeared and Minerva followed soon after.

When the fireplace sprang to life the Rouges (as they would henceforth be called by the Daily Prophet) apparated away. They couldn't risk that Andromeda had somehow managed to alert the Aurors. If they had known it was only two teenage boys they would have stayed and had a good time.

Andromeda had killed two werewolves early on, but Harry hadn't cared about their fate. He avoided the bodies effortlessly, already having known where they had fallen, but Draco tripped over the first. Harry pulled the blond to his feet. He had his wand out, held steadily in front of him, at eye level. Draco followed his example and pulled out his own wand, but his hand trembled and he had to keep his other hand on Harry's shoulder in order to calm himself.

Harry remembered what had happened and he knew where he would find Andy. She had killed two of them in her bedroom and she had run, as far from where Teddy was hidden as she could make it. He found her, just where he remembered, sprawled at the base of the stairs.

When the Rouges apparated, the pack had thrown themselves through doors or windows, and ran away, but Fenrir remained. He crouched over the woman who was barely breathing and hissed, "Where is the cub?"

She gasped something at him that Harry couldn't hear, and Fenrir reached out to slap her. An 'Expelliarmus' hit him first and he flew back against the living room door. He chuckled as he pulled himself to his feet. Fenrir pulled something out of his pocket and Harry recognized it as Andromeda's wand.

"I will find him." He promised. He aimed the wand out the window, "Morsmorde," he roared and a sickly green light lit up the sky above the house. He pointed it back at her. Harry prepared himself to defend Andromeda but no spell came. Fenrir grinned, his eyes on Narcissa's pale face, and she stared back at him from the threshold with wide eyes, and then he apparated away.

Harry threw himself to the ground. "Andy? Andy, you'll be ok, you'll be fine. He's gone now." Harry waved his wand over her, casting every healing charm he had learnt from Hermione but nothing happened. "Come on," he muttered. "He's gone. It's ok now."

"Why didn't he kill her?" Harry heard Draco ask. Hesitantly his own hand came out to find her pulse – he couldn't find it. He recoiled with a gasp and Draco looked down at him, comprehension suddenly dawning on him. "She's already dead isn't she?" His mother nodded sadly.

"Where's Teddy?" Minerva asked. She had begun searching the house and had fire called the Aurors.

The moment he heard his godson's name, Harry sprinted up the stairs, and nearly knocked over several of the arriving Aurors. When Draco followed him, and found him, he was standing on top of a desk in Nymphandora's room, talking into a hole in the ceiling.

"Teddy, love, it's me, Uncle Harry. Will you come down for me, love?" He reached a hand up and gave a relieved cry when a tiny hand squeezed around his thumb. He took the boy's arm and pulled. When Teddy was close enough to the gap, Harry manoeuvred him so that his legs were dangling down. With his arms around Teddy's small waist he pulled the boy from the attic and replaced the ceiling tile. "It's ok, baby, I'll take care of you."

He stepped down off the desk, and Draco was behind him without delay. His arms went around his Dominant's waist and he pressed his face to Harry's back. "It'll be ok, Harry." He whispered.

Harry knew Draco was lying to make him feel better, so he said nothing in reply. He just hugged his godson and took comfort in the fact that he had someone like Draco in his life. Someone who could and would love him despite all of the crazy shit that happened to him.

The Aurors took Teddy from him when they had finished cleaning up and taking photos or whatever it was that Aurors did. Harry didn't care. He didn't want them to take Teddy.

"He has to stay with a Wizarding Family Services worker until the matter of his guardianship is resolved."

"Well, I'm his guardian." Harry pointed out. "He doesn't want to go with you."

"We'll take care of him, Mr. Potter. You'll need to visit the Ministry tomorrow and make every thing legal." There was no particular level for the WFS at the Ministry, so it shared Level Three: Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It was a relatively small sector, and so there was deemed to be no problem sharing with the Family Services branch of the government. "You'll see him tomorrow."

"Yeah," Harry whispered. He waved at Teddy as the boy was taken through the floo. Eyes the same color as Remus' looked back at him over the shoulder of the Auror who held him, and they swam with tears as the boy waved back slowly. "Tomorrow."

_XXX_

April 15th 1998.

It had been relatively simple to get custody of his godson. The difficult part had been gaining access to the Ministry. Apparently you were no longer allowed to use the floo unless you were an Auror, a Professor or a worker at St. Mungos. He had tried to floo from Hogwarts but was spat back out because he wasn't a recognized Professor. Harry had tried to use the visitor's entrance, but there was a cue for the telephone box stretching all the way back to Kings Cross. That left Portkeys. The difficulty of course was finding one. Every member of the Wizengamot, or Ministry worker had a private one, but they were all keyed to the person's wand. To steal a Portkey meant stealing a wand, and Harry would have felt a little guilty about that.

In the end, Harry fire called the Ministry and reported a theft. Generally the Aurors would have been too busy with the events of the night before to take notice of a petty crime, but since it was the Boy-Who-Lived reporting the crime, they flooed over to Hogwarts for him.

"What has been stolen?"

"My godson." He said icily.

"Do you know who?" The man asked, his eyebrow rising slightly.

"Yeah. You guys. You took him yesterday, told me to come to the Ministry and now the Ministry won't let me in."

"Ah." The Auror put away his notebook and quill and took hold of Harry's elbow. "If you'll allow me." The Auror stepped into the fireplace first, and Harry followed him. The Auror held Harry's elbow for the entire dizzying ride, and when they came out in the Atrium, the Auror held Harry steady while the boy tried not to fall on his face.

"Thanks for that." The brunette grinned.

"Level three," he replied with a grin.

Harry returned ten minutes later with Teddy, who had fallen asleep on Harry's shoulder. His friends met him in the corridor outside of the Headmistress's office and they talked quietly among themselves as they walked Harry back to the Slytherin Head Boy dorms.

He tapped out the correct sequence of bricks on the yellow brick road painting, while his friends weren't looking of course, and he entered the room. He tried to smile at Narcissa, who sat puffy eyed on the sofa. Lucius sat beside her, with Draco in his lap, and the younger blond was crying too. He reached a hand out to squeeze Draco's shoulder as he passed and he nodded to Lucius before entering his bedroom.

His and Draco's double bed had been moved to the side of the room, instead of in the middle. On the other side of the room was the crib they had portkeyed over from Andromeda's house. Harry had wanted Teddy's things to be familiar to him, to help him settle in better. He lay the child down and tucked him under the blankets and tried not to cry. Teddy was so young, just over a year old and already his had lost his parents and grandparents. He was even younger than Harry had been. He was all alone now.

No.

Teddy wasn't alone. He had Harry, which was more than Harry had, and the brunette was determined to do everything he could to keep his godson safe. He left the room, closed the door behind him and left the suit altogether. His friends were still waiting outside and Harry sunk down on to the floor when the portrait closed.

"It's not so bad." Ron tried to console his friend.

"Yeah," Luna agreed airily, "Teddy is alive."

"No. It could have been worse, but it is still 'bad'. When something good happens to me, when I'm happy someone has to come along and shit all over my parade. There is no silver lining to this. It's the opposite in fact. If there is any lining at all, it's blood red." He chuckled and Hermione reached out to pull him into a hug. "This cloud has blood red lining." He laughed again, but it broke off into sobs quickly. He heaved slightly, his face against Hermione's neck as he tried to remember how to bleed.

"My life is lined with blood." He spoke softly now, his voice quiet and tense and each of his friends felt his pain as if it were their own. Harry hadn't looked this broken for a long time.

Not since Sirius died.

**XXX**

QUESTION: Did Fenrir Greyback die? No… not in my story. QUESTION: Regarding chapter 8, what was the name of the pub in Hogsmeade? All I can think of is Hogs Head, but that's not the one I want.

People don't review this as much as they used to… Would it make you all happier if I told you the story is going to get angstier now? If you review, I'll give you a Hillbilly-Harry (I hope BOOMrobotdog just read that lol), barefooted and wearing dungarees.


	7. It's Not Over

This chapter will get technical. That's why it took me so long. I'm sick, and I haven't the patience to read through my law books and figure out all the nitty-gritty details about land reclamation. If I got anything wrong, or confused, I blame it on Mr. Flu.

IMPORTANT: READ BELOW:

**A**: All of my law is based on _**Irish**_ Property Law, which is where I live. Let's pretend it applies to England as well. (**1**) The Proceeds of Crime Act wasn't enacted in England until around 2001 or after.

**B**: England does not have a Constitution, unlike _**Ireland**_, so some rights are not Constitutionally guaranteed. As such, I will change some things to make it fit better.

**C**: See, 'Principles of _**Irish**_ Property Law' by Fiona De Londras, for more information, as it is the leading text. It is also the book I am using. Some things are also taken from Conor Hanly's, 'And Introduction to _**Irish**_ Criminal Law'.

**D**: Some of the legislation will be out of date, as it is 2008 now, but 1998 in the story.

**E**: I have never been to a civil trial. I have no idea how they are done. I am taking a creative license out on it. Leading questions can be asked when cross-examining. Since the Wizengamot exists to prosecute, any questions to the defence may be leading.

**Words: **7,159

**Chapter 7**

**It's Not Over**

May 6th 1998.

In legal terms, 'property' is a bundle of rights relating to something. Thus 'owning' a house is, in essence, having certain kinds of rights and privileges in relation to that house. Real property is the term used to describe the rights held in freehold in relation to land, or things attached to land. The concepts of ownership and possession are central to the law of property. Ownership is control. The owner of something is the person who has acquired the right to control the thing that is owned. In contrast, possession is the right to enjoy and use something: it is a right that forms part of ownership but is also severable from it.

For example, if Harry Potter owned a pen, he would therefore enjoy both forms of a relationship with that pen. He could stand on it, chew it, throw it, and basically do whatever he wants with the pen subject to common sense and the law. He can also, because of the second relationship, borrow the pen to whomever he wishes, sell it, or give it away. The first relationship concerns the pen itself while the second is concerned with the rest of the world in relation to the pen.

One's control over land is restricted in fairly logical ways in order to ensure that this control is not exercised in an anarchical manner. 'Owners' of property are restricted by planning law, criminal law, law of torts, etc., in the extent to which control can be exercised.

Property law does not cater for a situation in which one owns the land itself; rather property law reflects the feudal principle that people are said to hold land for a certain period of time. The estates can be broadly divided into three categories: freehold, leasehold, and hybrid. Freehold describes the rights held for life, or in an inheritable form by those designated 'free men'. Freehold estates are said to have two characterises, (a) they last for an indefinite period of time, and (b) they are in relation to land only.

Many of the Pureblood families were well known for only allowing their land to pass to the males of their line. If the inheritability of the rights were restricted to lineal blood descendants, it would be said to be entailed and the 'estate' would be described as a fee tail. If the inheritability of the rights were not so restricted, it would be freely alienable and therefore known as a fee simple.

A fee tail will last for as long as a bloodline endures, thus it is an estate that is designed to remain within a particular family. The development of the fee tail is a testament to the fact that for a long time, wealth and status were linked almost exclusively to ownership of land. The basic concept of fee tail was that no member of the family could undertake an action that would result in the loss of the wealth and status of landholding for the entire family. As such, fee tail estates are known to be unalienable.

Most Pureblood families allowed their land succession to be determined by _De Donis_, which would have required succession to be determined by the normal rules of heirship. At the time of its creation, that would have meant, based on _Primogeniture_, that the eldest male heir would inherit everything. Where there were no male heirs, and only females, the female heirs would inherit together in what was known as coparcenary. It was also possible to create fee tail males, or fee tail females, or even fee tail marital (where only 'legitimate' heirs could inherit).

The fee tail is relatively rare in the modern Muggle world, though there is nothing prohibiting the creation of a fee tail or the barring of an entailment through the Fines and Recoveries Act 1834. Commentators have long been critical of the fee tail, however, due to the potential for gender based discrimination.

Due to the importance of land in economy, law is heavily concerned with ensuring some level of certainty in transfers of rights relating to land. It is important, therefore in relation to freehold estates, that one can easily discern which estate is being transferred by any particular conveyance. The words that are used to indicate which estate is being conveyed are known as Words of Limitation.

Words of Limitation depend of whether a transaction is conveyed _Inter Vivos_; which someone is alive, or through the disposition of a will once the testator dies. For fee tail _Inter Vivos_, the grantor must use words that not only indicate the inheritability of the estate – 'fee' – but also words that indicate the limitations on who may inherit – 'tail'. As the tenants in tail will share a bloodline, the words are usually referred to as Words of Procreation. In general, "to X and the heirs of his body", "and the heirs of his flesh", or "and the heirs of his proceedings" would suffice. But in order to create a special fee tail, the transferor would have to add the additional limitation on inheritability. For example, "to Lucius and the heirs male of his body" would ensure that only Draco, as the eldest son, would inherit. Should Lucius have had a daughter, "to Lucius and the heirs female of his body" would have sufficed.

In contrast, to convey property in a will, the Words of Limitation would be "to X and his issue". If the Words of Limitation were incorrect, for example, "to X and his children", the beneficiary would only receive a life estate in the property, and once the beneficiary died, the property would revert back to the original granter or his heirs, or if deceased, to the state.

It was with this in mind, that the Lawyers employed by the new Minster, Arnold Currant, began work on the newest piece of legislation. War was costly. With every war there always came a period, directly afterwards, where the economy struggled to repair the damaged infrastructure and find enough money to float through the retail sectors. After the First World War, the Treaty of Versailles made it mandatory for Germany to pay a certain amount in reparations to the allied countries. That was similar to what Minister Currant had in mind. But, rather than require money, he planned to compulsory purchase land and property from the Death Eaters, most of which were Purebloods and could afford it.

Under normal circumstances, compulsory purchase could only occur in two situations. The first being to prevent land from being, or becoming, a derelict site and to enable authorities to force owners into improving their sites, and secondly, to purchase land for an 'open space' where a development has been carried out with planning permission. For example, if numerous houses were built, land could be taken from a third party to create a park, which would be co-owned by the owners of the houses.

But the Minister had thought to combine the Planning and Development Act 1990 and the Derelict Sites Act 1990 with the Proceeds of Crime Act 1996(**1**). The 1996 Act allows for the forfeiture of property that the Wizengamot believes on the balance of probabilities to be derived directly or indirectly from criminal activity. This power is exercisable even where the owner has not been charged with, or even convicted of, a criminal offence.

As such, he was aiming to take money from anyone who happened to escape a penalty. If convicted, the most serious punishment would have been the Kiss or Imprisonment. If a person is convicted with a series of offences, he may serve numerous sentences that would run concurrently, though a sentence could be suspended if the Wizengamot feels it is appropriate in the circumstances or if, for example, a Death Eater had turned spy or given valuable information to the Aurors.

Financial penalties account for the bulk of sanctions imposed by the Muggle courts, and generally represent a source of revenue that helps to defray some of the cost of the criminal justice system. If a fine is imposed but it is not paid, the defaulter can be imprisoned as a result. The imprisonment is not in lieu of the fine, but rather in addition to the fine.

Arnold Currant rather liked the idea of criminals paying for their own trials.

If someone was acquitted, or found guilty with a suspended sentence, hey might not suffer Azkaban but they would certainly, once his new legislation was enacted, be paying a hefty fine or forfeiting their lands.

With the combination of the three Muggle statutes, the important and relevant parts being incorporated into his own Bill, his lawyers finished drafting the Fines and Forfeitures (Wizard) Bill 1998. On May 6th, the non-Death Eater members of the Wizengamot met and voted the Bill into law. Later that same day, the Daily Prophet printed a summary of the Fines and Forfeitures (Wizard) Act 1998.

Lucius read over the paper with a frown. He was sitting on one of the couches in the Head boy rooms. Narcissa sat across from him, on the other couch. On the floor between them, lay Draco, looking entirely relaxed. He lay on his back, with Harry sitting on his thighs and Teddy sat on his stomach. The brunette teenager was helping the baby tickle Draco, and the blond playfully laughed and giggled whenever Teddy did. Lucius turned the page and snorted out loud.

Draco looked up at his father, but didn't ask the others to get off of him. The elder Veela sighed, "Apparently they are re-trying every body suspected of illegal Death Eater activities."

"Well," Narcissa said softly, her hands folded in her lap. "It isn't like we were actually tried a first time. Maybe," she hesitated, her eyes straying to Harry, "maybe if we do this legally, in public, everyone will know. We wont have to answer to anyone, Lucius."

"Malfoys don't answer to anyone," the elder said automatically and the other two blonds just rolled their eyes.

"Can I see the paper, please?" Harry stood. Teddy remained on Draco's stomach, and the blond sat up pulling the child against his chest. Lucius handed the paper over, grimacing as the picture of the new Minister, on the front page, sneered at him.

'_The Ministry Acts', by Elias Hopekeg. _

_Half of the Wizengamot met early this morning to vote on, and pass, the new Bill, which is to decide the future of those who participated on the losing side. All of those convicted will now have to pay a substantive fine as well as serve prison time. Not that I am against that mind you; I'd prefer they pay their own court costs rather than expect us mere spectators to pay such out of our taxes. _

_I am trying to be unbiased, but as someone who lost loved ones to the Death Eaters, I hope every single one of them pays the price for their actions. Reformed, or otherwise, I say they should all answer to Minister Currant's new Act. _

_The 'Fines and Forfeiture (Wizard) Act 1998'. _

_(1) – Participation and Damage_

_(i) Anyone who participated in illegal Death Eater activities is subject to a fine of 2,650 Galleons. _

_(ii) Anyone convicted of committing a crime under orders from the Dark Lord Voldemort, and caused damage or harm to property, Muggle or Magical, will be subject to a further fine of 2,650 Galleons. _

_(iii) Anyone convicted of committing a crime under orders from the Dark Lord Voldemort, and caused damage or harm to a human, Muggle or Magical, will be subject to a further fine of 5,650 Galleons. _

_(2) – Profits of Death Eater Crimes_

_(i) Anyone who made a profit from Death Eater activities, whether they participated or not, must forfeit all monies and properties gained or purchased with said profit. _

_(ii) Anyone proven to have bought or handle property that could be considered a profit from Death Eater activities will also forfeit said properties, regardless of whether they participated in the Death Eater activity or not. _

_(iii) Property that could be considered a profit from a Death Eater attack include: _

_(a) Homes of Muggles/Wizards killed or tortured. _

_(b) Monies of Muggles/Wizards killed or tortured. _

_(c) Monies made selling a Muggle or Wizard to any establishment, trade, persons, etc. _

_(d) Monies made selling said homes/possessions of Muggles/Wizards killed or tortured. _

_(e) Anything given to a Wizard or taken from a Muggle while said Muggle was under a mind influencing curse, potion, etc., such as the Imperious. _

_(iv) A further fine of 1,250 Galleons will be imposed on anyone convicted on the balance of probabilities of using any such mind influencing magic on a Muggle/Wizard. _

_(3) – Wizengamot Fees_

_(i) Anyone who is tried is required to pay 1,250 Galleons to the Wizengamot to cover the costs of a trail. _

_(ii) Anyone convicted in the Wizengamot is required to pay a further 500 Galleons to cover the cost of transportation to Azkaban. _

_(iii) Anyone tried and/or convicted in the Wizengamot and cannot afford to pay, or fail to pay, the required fees will automatically forfeit all land and properties to the State of Wizarding Britain. _

_(iv) Anyone who appeals their sentence before the Wizengamot must pay a subsequent fee of 1000 Galleons. _

_(4) – Forfeiture Upon Sentencing_

_(i) Anyone convicted in the Wizengamot and sentenced to less than twenty years in Azkaban will have their lands and properties frozen until their sentence has been completed. _

_(ii) Anyone convicted and sentenced, but with children remaining in the custody of a wife, husband, friend, etc., and the children have not been convicted, all properties and land will go directly to the eldest child. Control will revert to the Head of the Household once the sentence has been completed. _

_(iii) Anyone whose spouse is tried and sentenced, if they are found to have not participated or assisted and the spouse is convicted, all properties remain with them and not with the spouse. _

_(iv) Anyone convicted in the Wizengamot and sentenced to more than twenty years in Azkaban will automatically forfeit his or her land and properties to the State of Wizarding Britain._

_(v) Anyone convicted and sentenced, but with children remaining in the custody of a wife, husband, friend, etc., and the children have not been convicted, all properties and land will go directly to the eldest child. Once the sentence has been completed all possessions remain under the control of the eldest child._

_(5) – Remedies_

_(i) Appealing the sentence will cost a further 1000 Galleons. It is not guaranteed that the sentence will be overturned on Appeal. It is possible that the sentence could be increased, rather than decreased or suspended. _

_(ii) Land and properties will not be forfeited if not convicted. _

_(iii) Fees may be mitigated, if, without conviction, the accused can find somebody reliable and willing to testify on their behalf against the charges. If the Wizengamot considers such a person competent and compellable then the fee and additional fees will be substituted for a total fee of 1,250 Galleons (costs of a trial). _

_(iv) Anyone who is given a suspended sentence must only pay 1,250 Galleons (cost of a trial)._

_As you can all comprehend, this new Act will possibly be the best thing to have happened to Wizarding Britain since Harry Potter was born. On behalf of all of my readers, I would like to say congratulations to Minister Currant, and thank you to Harry Potter, defeater-of-the-Dark-Lord. _

"Well, that's a bit rubbish, isn't it?" Harry said quietly. He looked over each of the Malfoys, the people who become or were slowly becoming a part of his family and he didn't doubt they could afford it, but there were many people out there who couldn't.

He thought about Snape. The man's mother was a Pureblood, but he seemed to not have anywhere to live other than the castle. Maybe his land had already been seized or his father had sold it when his mother died, or something. He couldn't be earning very much on a teachers salary. But then again, he had been a spy, and if he was convicted it would probably only be to a suspended sentence. He wouldn't, hopefully, have to pay more than the 1,250 Galleons.

"Let's see?" Draco held his hand out, read through the article quickly and scowled. "No doubt we'll be one of the first on trial."

"Well," Harry scratched the back of his neck. He bent down to pick Teddy up, who had remained on Draco and was dozing slightly. "I'll testify for you all, if you want." He said it softly, carrying Teddy into his and Draco's bedroom and shut the door after himself.

Lucius watched him go with narrow eyes, before he smiled slightly. "I think I could learn to like him."

"You don't like him?" Narcissa asked curiously. "I do. He's a little uptight, but he is a Gryffindor, I suppose." Draco glared between his parents, wanting to stick up for his mate, but also wanting to hear what his parents' thoughts were on the boy he loved.

"Yes, I like him. But not enough to consider him one of us. Not yet." He ran a hand through his hair, thoughtfully, eyeing Harry as he stepped back into the room.

"What?" The brunette asked. He sat beside Narcissa on the couch, and Draco leant back against his legs.

"Nothing." The other three said together.

_XXX_

May 8th 1998.

The summons came by owl a day after the Act was passed and published. All three Malfoys were required to attend, though only the two males would have to stand trial. Harry left Teddy with Mrs. Weasley: it was the first time he had seen her since the war ended. He had been unconscious when they buried Fred. Harry went with the Malfoys since Teddy was taken care of, and to his surprise, Hermione also volunteered to go.

"If one witness is helpful, then two may very well be essential," she had said when Harry asked why she was waiting in the Headmistresses office. Ron had trailed after her, but he didn't say anything about helping. Of course he was happy that Harry was happy, but he didn't see why Harry let the Malfoys use him. When the battle was first over, Harry had to vouch for them, and now he was going to have to go on trial for them, and they'd probably just screw him over in the end. Ron shot Draco a glare before Hermione dug him in the ribs.

The six of them went through in pairs, and even after they had exited the floo in the Atrium, Draco remained holding on to Harry's hand. They took the elevator up to Level Ten. Three Aurors met them outside of Courtroom Eight. Harry shuddered as they passed Courtroom Ten, and he remembered the horrible feeling of being looked down on by all of those people. Hermione remembered as well, but she was thinking of the time they had stolen the locket back from Delores Umbridge and saved that Muggleborn woman.

"You," a female Auror said taking hold of Narcissa's arm, "come with me."

The elder male motioned Harry and Hermione to follow the woman, and he grabbed Ron, pulling him further down the corridor. Ron was made to sit in the spectators stand. Nosy witches and vindictive wizards surrounded him, and he had the fleeting thought that Fred and George would have loved to be there, taking bets on the sentencing, but he squashed it. Fred was gone, and George didn't do fun things anymore.

The last wizard, a young fellow, smiled at Draco, nodded to Lucius, and said, "this way please."

The two Veela looked at each other and nodded. Heads high and backs straight, they followed the Auror into Courtroom Eight. Draco was made to sit in the corner of the room, the Auror remaining by his side. Lucius took the stand instantly, repeating the vow to tell the truth that the Supreme Mugwump read out to him.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had taken over when Dumbledore died, and with all the chaos of the war he hadn't had time to find a replacement. So, he was still the Supreme Mugwump (the Wizarding version of a Judge).

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, did you or did you not participate in illegal Death Eater activities?"

"I did."

"Did you or did you not, under order from the Dark Lord V-V-Voldemort, cause harm or damage to a Muggle or Wizard, property belonging to either a Muggle or Wizard, or both."

"Both."

"Did you or did you not make a profit from any of the illegal activities you have admitted to participating in?"

"I did not."

"Very well." He cleared his throat. At his side, a short, balding man was hurriedly taking down everything that was said. "Did you or did you not ever place a Muggle or a Wizard under any mind altering potions or curses, etc.? For the record, it is not relevant which type of magic he used, nor is the accused required to state the type of magic used."

"I did." Lucius was rather relieved that he wasn't required to tell them he had used several Imperious cursed. Each was punishable by a lifetime in Azkaban.

"You are required to pay 1,250 Galleons for the cost of this trial. Do you understand that if you are convicted you will have to pay a further 500 Galleons, and if you fail to make these payments you forfeit your properties as a result?"

"I understand, Justice."

Kingsley looked the man over and frowned. In the witness stand Harry and Hermione both looked over at him, and he met their eyes briefly before nodding. "Now that the preliminaries are out of the way, I, for the defence of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, call Harry Potter to the stand."

Harry walked towards them. Rather than sitting in the chair where Lucius sat, in the same position he had been in when he had been questioned before fifth year, he was seated in a small box almost directly beside Kingsley's seat.

"Were you aware that the accused had participated in any attacks?"

"I was." Harry licked his lips nervously. He had always hated speaking in front of a crowd. Everyone's eyes seemed to be on him, and him alone; it was like he was on trial again.

"Can you illustrate said attacks, or activities for the benefit of the court, in your own words." The scribe was still taking notes, rubbing at his forehead with ink stained hands.

"Um," Harry looked around as he spoke. He met Draco's eyes and smiled. The blond relaxed almost immediately and he leant forward, eagerly listening to Harry. "Well he was one of the people who were involved in the attack during the Quidditch World Cup, but he didn't actually hurt anybody though. Er, he was there during the final battle too, at Hogwarts, but he wasn't really participating."

"Explain, please?"

"Um, well, he was with Voldemort." There was a loud intake of breath from nearly everyone in the room. "But he was asking to stop the fighting. He was trying to find Draco. Draco didn't leave the castle when the students were evacuated; he was, er, with me. Lucius was-"

"The accused," Kingsley corrected.

"Sorry, the accused was sent to find Professor Snape. I didn't see him attack anyone. He found Snape that was it. He found me later, and well," Harry rubbed the back of his neck again. "He sort of helped save my life. So, yeah." Harry shrugged. He wasn't quite sure what else he was meant to say or do. He didn't want to explain every little detail, because most of it was private and personal, and he didn't want anyone knowing about the Horcruxes either.

"Thank you." Harry nodded at the black man and walked, slowly, back to the witness stand. When Kingsley looked at her, Hermione shook her head. "Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, if you would trade places with the second accused, Draco Lucius Malfoy. The matter of conviction and sentencing will be carried out at the end."

Draco and Lucius swapped places. Draco repeated the vow after Kingsley, his eyes focussing on Harry's face. His hands were trembling, and he clutched at the armrests so that no body would notice. Narcissa watched him. She was also in the witness stand. At that point in time, a spouse was not a competent witness, but they were in regards to a child.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, did you or did you not participate in illegal Death Eater activities?"

"I did." Draco's voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

"Did you or did you not, under order from the Dark Lord V-V-Voldemort, cause harm or damage to a Muggle or Wizard, property belonging to either a Muggle or Wizard, or both."

"I did."

"Please be specific." Kingsley looked at the younger blond, and felt a small stirring of pity within him. Draco was just a child, Harry's age, and he knew that children rarely had any say in their lives when it came to important events. More than likely, Draco was just a victim of circumstances, but it was necessary nonetheless to hold a trial for him.

"I tortured a Death Eater once, because He asked me to. He said he'd torture me if I didn't. I didn't destroy any property though."

"Thank you. Did you or did you not make a profit from any of the illegal activities you have admitted to participating in?"

"No, I didn't."

"Did you or did you not ever place a Muggle or a Wizard under any mind altering potions or curses, etc.? For the record, it is not relevant which type of magic he used, nor is the accused required to state the type of magic used."

"Y-Yes," he stuttered. During his sixth year he had placed Madame Rosmerta under the Imperious Curse. He wasn't proud of it, but he had been getting so desperate by that point that he felt he had no other choice.

"You are required to pay 1,250 Galleons for the cost of this trial. Do you understand that if you are convicted you will have to pay a further 500 Galleons? As he is under eighteen at the time of trial and/or conviction, any fines owed by the second accused will be made payable from the Head of the Household, being the first accused Lucius Abraxas Malfoy."

"I understand, Justice."

Kingsley shook his head slightly. "Now that the preliminaries are out of the way, I, for the defence of Draco Lucius Malfoy, call Narcissa Malfoy to the stand." She took her seat and nodded at him. "Were you a witness to any of the activities admitted to by the accused?"

"Yes. I was there when he was marked. I tried to stop it, Draco didn't want to be marked, but he didn't have a choice. At first he thought it was all a game of some sort, working for the Dark Lord, being important, but I knew it wasn't what he'd want. I made Professor Snape swear an unbreakable vow to protect Draco. My safety and Draco's safety was threatened on a regular basis."

"Please say 'the accused'."

"Oh," she said, eyes tearing up slightly. "The accused did torture another Death Eater, but he did it to keep himself and myself safe from the Dark Lord."

"The Dark Lord resided at your home, did he not?"

"Yes. After my husband went to Azkaban he came and demanded we show him hospitality. He took the entire manor over. There was no where else for us to go so we just had to deal with it."

"Very well. I now call Harry Potter to the stand." Narcissa grabbed hold of the brunette as they passed by each other, and she squeezed his arm before letting go and making her way to the witness box. "Harry," Kingsley said, "did you witness the accused during any of the previously mentioned activities?"

"Yeah. He let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts at the end of my sixth year. But like Narcissa said, he did it to keep his family safe. I mean, I probably would have done the same."

The scribe looked up, wide-eyed, as Harry finished the sentence. "Strike that from the record." Kingsley said with a scowl.

Harry carried on talking. "I saw him, before it happened, and he was crying. It was sort of obvious he didn't want to do it, but he was afraid, you know? Pretty much everyone was afraid by that point."

"But not yourself?" Kingsley asked with a grin.

"I was terrified, but Gryffindors hide it better than Slytherins. All that recklessness is just an act." Harry grinned back.

"Now, if Hermione Granger would take the stand for the defence of Draco Lucius Malfoy." The teenagers swapped places. "You were kidnapped, were you not, during the past year?"

"Yes, Justice. By Fenrir Greyback and a team of Snatchers."

"They brought you to Malfoy Manor, didn't they?"

"They did. Harry, Ron and myself." Hermione brushed her hair back off her face, her cheeks red.

"In your own words, please tell the Wizengamot what occurred."

"Well, we were in a forest, searching for certain items that would help us defeat Voldemort – oh, it's only a name, honestly! – when they appeared. I hexed Harry so they wouldn't be able to recognize him, and they brought us to Malfoy Manor. Mrs. Malfoy let us in, and Mr. Malfoy and the accused were in a study. The accused denied recognizing us, though I'm certain he knew very well who we were."

"Why do you think he did that?"

"Well, Harry is his mate, isn't he? And Harry was really the only chance you had of defeating Voldemort, and I was certain Draco wouldn't have made a good Death Eater. His bark is worse than his bite, to quote a Muggle phrase."

"Continue."

"I think they were about to send us away, or let us go, but more likely leave us in the dungeon, which would have been a good thing because we would have been able to escape sooner then. Bellatrix Lestrange came though. She tortured me."

"Did the accused participate?"

"No. He didn't help me either, but honestly what could he have done? I wouldn't have expected him to put himself in danger for my sake, because to be honest, Harry and Ron do that enough as it is. Foolish boys. He was sent to fetch Griphook. He is a goblin, and was employed by Gringotts. During that time, Harry found a way to escape and rescue us. He does that." Harry had gone bright red, and even though he wasn't on trial and he wasn't on the stand, all eyes had turned to him again.

"You escaped? Unharmed."

"Well I was tortured, and Mr. Olivander and Griphook were pretty sickly looking, but we all survived."

"Harry mentioned that the accused didn't evacuate the school when he was told to. Why, to the best of your knowledge, was that?"

Hermione frowned. "I don't know if I'm the right person to ask, but as far as I know he went looking for Harry. He found Harry, and during an explosion that killed a friend of mine, he inadvertently saved Harry's life." She paused. "Later, after Voldemort had been killed, the accused helped us stun the remaining Death Eaters, the ones that hadn't fled."

"Please, leave the stand." Kingsley waited till Hermione had taken her seat beside Harry. "The Wizengamot will take a ten minute recess to decide the outcome of the trial against Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and Draco Lucius Malfoy, to be decided independently." He tapped his wand against the bench and a small ringing sounded through the room. Each person wearing the pink robes stood and left the Courtroom in single file.

Everyone else remained behind.

Ten minutes later, Kingsley addressed the crowd again. "Lucius Abraxas Malfoy you have been convicted of participating in Death Eater activities, of causing harm to property and people, of using mind altering magics, all of which accumulate to a fine of 12,200 Galleons. You are also required to pay 1,250 Galleons to cover the cost of this trial. However, the Wizengamot are satisfied that your witness is competent and, as such, your sentence has been suspended. You are henceforth required to pay, only, a sum of 1,250 Galleons, for the cost of the trial. You are free to leave. You have ten days to pay the required fine."

Lucius stood, and anyone who knew him well enough could see he was shocked. His hands were shaking, but he pulled his sleeves down to hide his hands, and he left the room silently.

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy you have been accused of participating in Death Eater activities, of causing harm to property and people, of using mind altering magics, all of which accumulate to a fine of 12,200 Galleons if convicted, but have been acquitted on the grounds of Duress. The Wizengamot have found your witnesses competent and, as you are under the age of eighteen, your Head of family will be required to pay 1,250 Galleons to cover the cost of this trial on your behalf. He has ten days to pay the required fine. You are free to leave."

Ron was the first out of the Courtroom. He found Lucius leaning against the wall, his shoulders shaking slightly. Narcissa went to him immediately, and Harry smiled softly as they held each other. He didn't watch them for long because soon enough Draco had thrown himself into his mate's arms, and Harry held him tightly.

"That wasn't so bad. You only have to pay 1,250 each rather than 13,450 Galleons each." Hermione said to herself.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said, turning to glare at Hermione. "Why are you relieved? You're not fucking one of them too are you?"

"Ronald!" Hermione hissed. She had her hands on her hips, looking utterly scandalised and sounding so much like Mrs. Weasley that even Harry took a step backwards. "What has gotten into you?"

"It isn't fair!" He shouted. The elder Malfoys looked at them, bemusedly curious but at the same time, horrified by their undignified behaviour. Though neither of them said anything with Harry standing there. Harry and the Muggleborn had helped them; even Lucius was a decent enough person to not want to offend them so soon after accepting their help. "They deserve it!"

"Deserve what? Honestly!" She huffed, tapping her foot against the ground.

"They didn't lose anyone. They all survived. They didn't have to watch anyone they loved die, did they? The least they should have to do is pay a stupid fine. But no! of course not. Poor Veela Malfoy, fucking fortunate enough to land himself with Harry. Of course Harry isn't going to refuse. He wouldn't say no if you asked him to saw his leg off!"

"I offered Ron."

"Why?" He turned on the brunette, his face as red as his hair. His eyes were watering, and he tried hard not to think about Fred. "Why would you do that?"

"You know they could have sent Draco to Azkaban right?"

"So what? We won, they lost; they should be punished." He was actually crying now.

"And if we had lost? Wouldn't you want someone to stick up for your family?"

"That isn't the same Harry. My family got hurt. Yeah, Death Eaters lived in their house. My brother was killed, and another was mutilated, and that was his fault." Ron pointed at Draco, ignoring Hermione's mutter of 'pointing is rude, Ronald'. "It's not like he can't afford to pay a fine. He's always on about how bloody rich he is. What the fuck Potter?" He reached out to shove Harry lightly. "You couldn't have just let them pay the fine? Sure maybe not Azkaban, but they deserved some punishment."

Ron shoved Harry again. The brunette just looked at him, an eyebrow raised, just waiting for Ron to come to terms with everything in his own time like they always did. Ron pushed him again and Hermione sighed. Boys were so silly sometimes.

Apparently the third time was the charm, because when Harry was shoved that last time, Draco growled at Ron. The red head flew back into the wall with a crack. H opened his eyes, groaned slightly from the throbbing in the back of his head and looked at the tip of the blond's wand. "Don't touch my mate!"

Harry had one hand on Draco's arm, trying to push the wand away from Ron's face, but the Veela wasn't budging. "You attacked me." Ron accused.

"You attacked my mate."

"I barely touched him!" Ron spat, standing up. "Harry isn't as much of a wimp as you are, ferret face. He's had worse."

Draco growled again, taking the words as a threat to his mate. Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled at the look Hermione was shooting Ron. Ron moved forward, more than likely planning to punch Draco, but the Veela was acting on instinct now. His mate's safety was paramount, and with that thought in mind he assumed Ron planned to attack Harry. He punched Ron in the face and the boy's head snapped back before he went down like a sack of potatoes.

When he came around a few minutes later he nodded, and pursed his lips in thought. "Maybe you aren't so bad, Malfoy." Ron said.

The blond looked slightly stunned. Harry and Hermione were kneeling on the ground beside the redhead, and the elder Malfoys were standing protectively in front of their child.

"Merlin knows Harry needs somebody to keep him safe." Ron snorted. "Always getting into trouble, that one is. You keep defending him Malfoy, and I'll stop wanting to beat the living daylights out of you. Deal?" He didn't wait for a response.

He stood up, and with Hermione's help he made his way back to the Atrium and then to Hogwarts. It was around the time Draco's fist was flying towards his face that Ron realized that the Veela could be good for his friend. Unlike Ginny, Draco would be willing to take charge once in a while, despite being a submissive. He would protect Harry, and take care of Harry, and Harry was definitely someone who deserved to be pampered once in a while.

When Harry and the Malfoys arrived back at Hogwarts the first person they saw was Luna. She was crying softly, while humming to herself. When Ginny came running down the corridor, also crying, Harry thought they might have had a fight. Ginny threw herself at him, and he automatically reached out to catch her. Ignoring Draco's dark looks, she clung to Harry, sobbing against his chest and he uncomfortably attempted to comfort her.

"What's the matter?" He asked Luna, because she didn't seem to be crying as much as Ginny. Draco thought she was probably faking it for attention.

"They found him," she said airily, staring up at the ceiling. She started humming again. A minute into the tune, she turned back to Harry and said, "he fell on her you know."

"It was ho-horrible," Ginny sobbed. "We were cleaning the Room of Requirements, just some of us from D-Dumbledor-res Army. He just fell on me. Oh Harry! I was cleaning and then he fe-fell on me."

"Who?" The brunette looked utterly confused. He turned to look at Draco but the Veela had gone pure white.

"Vince?" Draco whispered and Harry suddenly remembered. He had saved Draco, and Ron had saved Goyle, but no body had gotten Crabbe out of the Room. He would have either been killed by a stray curse or by the Feindfyre. He couldn't believe they were still finding corpses.

"It wasn't pleasant, Harry," Luna said softly. She smiled at Draco then, "sorry," she said before she started humming again. She skipped off down the corridor, but Ginny remained pressed against Harry's chest crying.

"I'll see you." Draco said quietly, before he followed his parents back to their room. Harry wanted to go with him, but no matter how much he pushed at her, Ginny wouldn't let go.

_XXX_

May 14th 1998.

He could hear the screaming.

He could smell the blood.

All before he could see the bodies. When he finally spotted them, they were everywhere. Seven of them in total, three adults and four children: all of them Muggle. Fenrir was there again, leading the attack. Harry didn't understand why he could still see these visions, these events. Before he was able to see them through Voldemort's eyes because of the curse scar, but now Voldemort should have been dead, the scar shouldn't have had power over him, but it did. His scar still hurt. He was still able to see and hear and feel the Muggles writhing in pain. Screaming and crying and begging.

And a part of him enjoyed it, and that made everything so much worse.

The three adults were already dead. Parts of them were scattered across the lawn, arms and legs and feet and hands all severed from one another, thrown haphazardly out of the way or discarded after being chewed on. Six werewolves snarled and ate, covered in blood and bits of flesh and bone, enjoying the feast laid out before them. Each still looked human, except for the amber eyes and the sharp, pointed teeth. Fenrir watched them all, looking very much like a proud father might after his son learnt to ride a bike.

Four Rouges were casting curses on the remaining four Muggles, the children. They screamed and screamed, and Harry found himself screaming with them. He screamed for it to stop, for them to just die, he screamed to join in, desperately wanting a turn to make them beg so prettily. He wanted to have a chance to play. He never got to play and he hated it. This was his game, his, and he would be damned if those pathetic Muggles denied him anything else he wanted. As Harry thought that, his scar flared and he cried out in his sleep. Something warm and wet ran down his leg and he wondered briefly if he was bleeding.

Then he woke up.

"Morsmorde," was the first word out of his mouth, but he knew the Dark Mark had appeared over the Muggles and not above his bed.

His legs were wet and Harry suddenly, with much embarrassment, realized he had pissed in the bed. Fortunately, it was late in the morning and Draco had already woken up. He reached for his wand and vanished the sheets. Almost immediately, clean sheets were on the bed and Harry thanked the house elves for small mercies. He didn't know how he would have explained himself. Merlin, he hated wet the bed since he was seven!

What kind of freak wets the bed at his age?

**XXX**

Long bloody chapter. Thanks for reading. If you review, I'll try and reply to you with a random quote. Who doesn't want a quote? If you don't want one… review and let me know. :P (Either way you'll have to review).

xx I read through the previous chapters, and unless I overlooked it, I don't believe I named the new Minister of Magic… If I have, correct me if I'm wrong. From henceforth, we shall have Arnold Currant as Minister. He's a cross between Fudge (incompetent) and Scrimgeour (ruthless).


	8. Nothing Wrong With Me

Well, this chapter is late. But I finally finished Brothers in Arms 3. Mild slash in this chapter. Pay attention to the bed-wetting, pyromania and animal cruelty – three important indicators, but can anyone tell me of what?

* * *

**Words: **6,238

**Chapter 8**

**Nothing Wrong With Me**

May 30th 1998.

Billy Stubbs had argued with him yesterday. Just thinking back on it made Tom angry. The idea that some stupid, boring, normal boy thought that there was something wrong with _him_ just made him so angry. Tom was the only one at that stupid orphanage that there was something right with! He was the special one. He would be the important one when he grew up. If only everyone could be like him; the world would be a better place.

How dare Billy?

Tom could feel it inside of him. The anger and resentment, coursing through his veins, pumping through his heart, with each beat of his heart, the anger grew, thicker and darker, faster and faster until Tom just couldn't take it anymore. He swung his legs out over the edge of the bed and stood up. The threadbare sheet fell onto the ground, but the nine year old couldn't bring himself to care. He left the room silently, being very careful not to wake up his overly nosy roommate. Dennis Bishop was an awful pain in the backside, in Tom's opinion. Him and that Amy Benson, always crowding around him, begging him to do something strange so they could tell everyone all about it.

He crept down the hallway, his footsteps cat-like. No one ever caught him when he was out after hours. He only had to worry about waking Dennis; if Dennis slept through Tom leaving the room, he never woke when Tom was gone or when he came back. Tom had always been extremely lucky in respect to not getting caught. A handful of times some of the elder boys would catch him alone, doing something weird, and they'd beat on him, but the older Tom got the easier he found it to avoid them.

He'd also discovered that he had the ability to make someone do what he wanted him or her to, just by telling them to. He'd shouted at 12-year-old Amber Healy a week ago, telling her she was a loser and a crybaby, and he'd told her she should throw herself out of the window because no one would miss her. She threw herself of the closest window the moment Tom was back in his room. But no one had dared to blame her death on him.

Tom grinned as he stopped in front of the door he was searching for. Billy Stubbs was two years older than him, old enough to be in secondary school. Sometimes the older kids got their own rooms, or pets, as long as their school work was up to scratch. Billy was so proud of his little, fluffy rabbit. He never could resist the opportunity to rub it in Tom's face. Billy had a rabbit, and Tom used to have a snake, before Dennis had told Mrs. Cole on him. Tom never saw the snake again, but he'd been informed repeatedly by some of the older boys that the snake died painfully. He pushed open the door to Billy's room and smiled slightly when he noticed the boy was still sleeping. He walked inside.

"Come here, stupid animal." Tom hissed, kneeling down beside the indoor rabbit hutch. The rabbit woke instantly, and hopped closer to Tom. Tom lifted the lid of the hutch and grabbed the rabbit, giving it a harsh squeeze, before quietly leaving the room again. "So, fluffy, what am I going to do with you?"

Harry laughed, the knife in his hand slipped and clattered onto the floor, but he merely laughed again and picked it up. He pressed it against the rabbit's leg, and carried on with what he was doing. The animal squirmed feebly; the skin of its upper torso was missing completely, as were its eyes. Harry didn't understand why it was still alive, but he thought it might have been because he had told the rabbit not to die. When Harry had cut all of the animal's skin off, he stood, holding the rabbit by the back legs. It gave a soft squeal, but no part of the boy felt pity or sympathy. He was too busy thinking about Billy Stubbs' face when he came in for breakfast later that morning.

He climbed up onto one of the diner tables. Earlier Harry had placed a chair on the table, and now he carefully climbed onto it. He held the rabbit against one of the rafters with one hand, while the other hand pulled a length of string out of his pocket. He hurriedly tied the animal up, tight; making sure it wouldn't fall down. It twitched again as Harry tucked the chair back under the table.

"You can die now, you stupid beast." He hissed. Harry got down on his hands and knees; scrubbing at the floor with a wet cloth he had kept aside. He thought hard about how he didn't want the blood there, how he didn't want anyone to notice the blood, and his face almost split in half when he pulled back the pristine white cloth, without a trace of blood on it, and found the floor spotlessly clean. It was like he had never been there, he thought. Harry looked up at the ceiling, just to check, and was satisfied to find the dead animal hanging where he had left it.

He wrapped the skin in the cloth and ran to the kitchen, throwing the lot into the furnace that simultaneously heated the building and cooked the food. It was a little gross he thought, but didn't people eat rabbit in some parts of the world?

Harry headed back to his room then. A small part of him was convinced he didn't live here, but the larger part of him lay down on his cot, pulled up his thin sheet and closed his eyes with a smile. Tom couldn't wait until the rest of the orphanage woke and found the rabbit. Billy Stubbs would be sorry he called Tom Riddle a freak. Tom cracked open one eyes and looked over to Dennis. Everyone would be sorry. Tom would show them all.

Tom felt something wet running down his leg and grimaced. The same thing had happened after Amber Healy jumped out of that window. He wriggled slightly, shifting over on the bed so he wasn't lying in the wet patch, and tried to go back to sleep. He'd wet the bed again, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd lie there all night, he'd stay awake and deal with it before Dennis woke up, or no doubt Dennis would tell everyone – again.

Harry's eyes snapped open. The first thing that registered with his brain was that his bed was wet. The second was that, fortunately, Draco was no longer in the bed. For the past two weeks he had managed to avoid wetting himself when the blond was around, but Harry didn't know how much longer this would last. He couldn't imagine trying to explain to Draco that he dreamt of torturing children and helpless animals but got so excited by that, that he then pissed himself. Just thinking about the dreams horrified Harry, and the worst part was that while the boy in the dreams looked so much like him, Harry knew it wasn't him. It couldn't be.

Most of the dreams reminded Harry about the memories Dumbledore had shown him about the young Voldemort. Didn't Tom Riddle kill the rabbit of some kid at his orphanage as well? Harry didn't remember anything about a girl called Amber, but he was sure Riddle had done something to an Amy Benson at least.

Maybe he was dreaming about Voldemort's past again? Why, when Voldemort was dead, Harry didn't know, but maybe it was because the Fates were trying to show him that he had done the right thing. It could, he mused, be possible that the Fates didn't want him to feel guilty about killing a murder, but then, he wasn't really feeling all that repentant. Still, even now, all he felt was loss. There wasn't room for guilt right then, especially not about Voldemort's death.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered as he vanished the sheets again, "there's nothing wrong with me at least."

He dressed, washed himself and headed out to find his mate. Wrapping an arm around Draco's waist, he pulled the blond down into a kiss and ignored the familiar twinge his scar gave him. If the dreams didn't stop within the next month, Harry promised himself, he'd talk to someone about them.

"Good morning," Draco greeted, as they pulled apart.

"And what a good morning it is," Harry said, licking his lips as he looked Draco up and down. He laughed as Draco blushed, and almost immediately the feelings, the emotions, that welled up in him when Draco was around drowned any and all fears he had regarding his strange night time experiences. When Draco kissed him again, it was like Tom hadn't ever existed.

His scar hurt again. But Harry was used to ignoring it.

_XXX_

June 5th 1998.

Draco moaned softly in his sleep. His hips bucked lightly, but one of Harry's hands pushed him down, keeping him pinned to the bed. The brunette grinned and licked his lips. For the first night in a while now he hadn't wet the bed, and he hadn't had any sort of strange dream either. He'd woken up this morning, the morning of Draco's eighteenth birthday, in a very good mood. And he wanted to share his good mood with his mate.

The blankets were pushed down to the edge of the bed. Harry was fully clothed, but Draco as always was sleeping in only his boxers. There was a slight bulge at the front of them and Harry licked his lips again as he reached out to touch the blond's growing erection. Draco moaned again as Harry palmed his crotch. His head thrashed lightly, another groan escaping his mouth as Harry carefully pulled down the waistband of the silk shorts and freed Draco's erection.

The boy had been growing harder since Harry first started bestowing his attentions on him, and by now Draco was aching. He bucked his hips again, but Harry succeeded in keeping him on the bed. Harry pressed small, butterfly kisses across both of Draco's thighs. He nuzzled at the crease between Draco's right thigh and hip before kissing his way along Draco's stomach to bite down lightly at the flesh of Draco's left hip.

Draco's eyes fluttered and he whimpered lightly as something flicked across his penis. Something wet engulfed him, and he gave a startled yelp, eyes widening as he woke fully and looked down at his mate. Harry lay between his spread legs, his green eyes sparkling and Draco thought that he might have had a shit-eating grin on his face, if his mouth hadn't been filled with Draco's cock.

"H-Harry?" He stuttered, unsure whether he should urge Harry on, or stop his mate and reverse their positions.

"Hmm?" Harry tried to say but the flesh he continued to suck on muffled the word. Harry gave a quick, hard suck. Draco let out another moan, throwing his head back and abandoning himself to the feelings Harry was stirring in him. His cock twitched lightly as Harry hummed again. The brunette pulled back complete, allowing his closed lips to barely brush against the tip of the straining erection.

"Please Harry, please, please," Draco begged, his voice breathy and low. The sound made Harry pant, his own cock stirring.

"What do you want Draco?" Harry asked, trying to make his voice sound as sultry as possible. It obviously worked, because Draco threw his head back again with a soft cry. The blond's hand crept downwards, but Harry caught it before Draco could touch himself. "Do you want me?" Draco's head bobbed frantically. "Do you want my mouth on you, my tongue licking you all over, do you want my hands on you, inside of you?"

"Yes, Merlin, oh YES! Harry!" Draco's right hand was pinned at his side by Harry's hand, but his other hand tangled in Harry's hair, pulling the boys head down towards his cock. "Please Harry." His eyes had fluttered closed, and he was panting harshly. His breath caught as Harry swallowed him to the root again. Harry sucked and licked for a while longer, until he thought Draco was ready, until he knew the blond was barely hanging on. Then he pulled away. "No, no, no, please don't stop, Harry, Harry, no!" Draco gasped, thrashing his head frantically, letting his hips rise and fall, his cock bobbing in front of Harry's face.

The brunette gave the stimulated blond a soft smile. "I have something I want to tell you." Draco looked at him through heavy lidded eyes, but he was panting too hard to speak. "I love you." Draco's mouth opened, a silent cry leaving him, as his back arched and he came hard across his stomach without being touched again. Harry leant forward, licking away the semen and moaning at the taste of it on his tongue.

Draco watched him as the brunette cleaned him with his tongue. He swallowed heavily, trying to regain control of his breathing. Nothing he had ever done had felt like that, nothing. With a smile he realized he couldn't wait to see how amazing bonding with Harry would be.

"You know," Draco said slyly when he had calmed. Harry still lay between his legs, but his cheek was pressed to Draco's stomach now and he was tracing small circles on Draco's thigh. "It doesn't count when you say it during sex."

Harry looked up at him and frowned. He crawled up Draco's body so their faces were directly in front of the others and he leant down to pressed a kiss to Draco's cheek.

"I love you," he told Draco before claiming his lips in a searing kiss. As their tongues duelled, and Draco's eventually, inevitably submitted, Draco could taste what he knew to be his essence on Harry's tongue.

"I love you," Harry said for a second time, pulling away before pressing kisses to Draco's neck and chin.

"I love you," he told the blond once more, lying fully on top of him so Draco could feel how hard he was. The blond reached down, trying to touch Harry through his trousers, wanting to please his mate, but Harry stopped him.

"I love you," he said again, looking straight into Draco's disappointed silver eyes.

The blond smiled, realizing what it was Harry wanted. "I love you too." Harry's hand let go of Draco's wrist, and he moved to lie on his back, pliant but vocal as Draco showed him, with his hands and mouth, exactly how loved he was.

It was an hour later before either boy emerged from their bedroom. Narcissa looked up at them from one of the couches in the living room as they entered. The corners of her lips curled upwards slightly, but it was enough of a smile for Draco to notice. He flushed crimson, mortified that his mother had heard everything. Harry, not knowing Narcissa as well as Draco, missed the amused smile. He looked between the two of them, his eyebrows furrowed.

Lucius cleared his throat. He sat on the opposite sofa to his mate, reading the paper. He lowered the paper, peering over it to meet Harry's eyes. "Next time, use a silencing spell." He lifted the paper again, but not before catching Harry's horrified gaze, and he continued to read.

Harry sputtered for a moment, before he swallowed heavily. "Uh… oops?"

"Well," Narcissa said with a giggle, "at least we know he's being suitably taken care of." She gave Harry a wink, and the brunette blushed as red as his mate. "Oh, your friend came for Teddy this morning. We allowed it, we assumed Miss Granger is more than capable of caring for him."

"Yeah, she'll do fine. Thanks, I was wondering why it was so quiet in here." Harry sat down next to Narcissa, pulling Draco down onto his lap.

"Yes, well," Lucius looked over the paper, smirking at his son, "it's quiet _now_."

"DAD!" Draco roared, his face flaming again. He jumped to his feet and almost ran back to the bedroom, slamming the door after himself. Harry let out a small chuckle as he watched his embarrassed Veela throw a slight tantrum. "Shut up Harry!" The voice called through the door and the brunette immediately stopped laughing.

Lucius folded his paper up and lay it on his lap. "What is it?" He asked Harry, who was nervously fidgeting with his shirt buttons.

"Uh, well it's Draco's birthday and I was wondering if you had anything planned?"

"No, Harry. Draco never expressed any desire for a celebration this year, nor the last year. He hasn't quite been up to his usual spirits. And anyway, if we had planned something we would have told you. You're family now, you know." Narcissa tugged him against her, giving him a strong one-armed hug.

"I was thinking, maybe we could arrange a small party or something?" Harry said softly, conscious of his boyfriend who could be listening from the other room. "You know, with Voldemort gone, and he found his mate, me, so there really isn't a reason not to celebrate right? He's eighteen! I mean, he's legally allowed to drink, and vote, and you know, do other cool stuff."

Lucius pursed his lips, considering before he gave a slight nod. "We'll leave the arrangements up to you. We'll keep him distracted."

"Thanks. I'll let you know when and where later ok." Narcissa nodded, removing her arm from around his shoulders. "Bye Draco!" He shouted towards the bedroom as he stood up.

"Bye!" Draco called back, still too embarrassed to open the door. Harry left the room, chuckling.

_XXX_

Teddy was happily chewing on the quill Ron had given him earlier. When Harry joined his friends in the library, Teddy immediately handed his quill over, wanting to shall. "Hey, thanks buddy." Harry took the quill, gave it a quick chew and handed it back to the happy toddler.

"That was gross, mate." Ron said with a grimace.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's a baby, Ronald, not a contagious fungal organism."

"But, they traded spit!" The red head protested.

"So do we!" Hermione said, and then blushed as she remembered the other teenagers that were sat around the table. Ron went red as well, and though he wanted to protest, he didn't think shouting 'you're a girl' would go over well with Harry, who liked to trade spit with a boy. He gave a small shudder. "What?" The girl asked immediately.

"Nothing, just bad thoughts."

"Anyway," Neville said with a roll of his eyes, "how are you Harry?"

"Great. Thanks for taking Teddy this morning, guys."

"Of course, we were pleased to help out!" Hermione said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "It's Draco's birthday, we thought you'd like to be alone with him for a while." Ginny gave a snort, looking up sulkily through her lashes, making it painfully obvious that she would have been happier not helping Draco out.

"Yeah so why aren't you with him?" George said, reaching across the table to pinch Harry's cheek lightly. Neville jumped as George spoke. It was the first thing out of the red heads mouth since they met up that morning. He was still only speaking to Harry, and Neville knew it wasn't going to end well.

"That's what I was hoping to talk to you about. I wanted to have a party for him. Wanna help?"

"Of course!" Hermione and Luna both said, smiling.

"Well, we can't have it in the Hogs Head." Neville said immediately. "The building was busted up pretty badly when the Death Eaters figured out how we were evacuating Hogwarts."

Harry winced slightly, giving himself a mental reminder to thank Aberforth repeatedly for his help. "What about the Three Broomsticks?"

Hermione thought for a moment, "well, no one was issued to help clean it up, so it must have survived almost intact."

"Or it was decimated completely," George added helpfully.

"Why don't you see if Professor McGonagall will let you floo over, and you can ask Madame Rosmerta if it would be ok? While you're gone, we'll plan the guest list."

"Who would want to go to Malfoy's party?" Ginny said snidely.

"He's Slytherin friends?" Neville asked quietly. "Suppose we'd have to ask his parents to contact them."

"I'll do that," Luna volunteered. She stood up and walked away from the table before anyone could protest.

Hermione slapped Ron on the arm. "Why didn't you offer?" She asked him with a frown.

"I was just about to," he lied, "cross my heart." He scratched his chin lightly, "and anyway it'd be better if I went to the kitchens and over saw the food preparations, don't you think? I bet the house elves might even let me help them."

"Just don't eat it all!" Hermione shouted after him.

"I'll keep an eye on him." George stood as well, calmly following after his youngest brother. He gave Harry a pat on the head as he past by. "Hope you had a good morning." He winked. Harry just grinned back at him.

"Well," Ginny said loudly with a sneer on her face, "I won't be offering my help!" She crossed her arms over her chest and leant back in her chair, her eyes narrowing at Harry. "Nor will I be leaving. I was sitting at this table before you, and I have just as much right to remain here."

Harry frowned at her, before turning his attention to his godson. "What's the matter, Teddy bear?" Teddy stopped tugging at Harry's arm when the elder boy looked down at him.

The child pointed at his own chest and grinned, "par tee, me, par tee."

"Course you can come to the party, kiddo." Ginny scowled at the child for drawing away Harry's attention. She just knew he was about to apologize for hurting her, and Teddy had to go and ruin things.

"Fine." Hermione lay her quill down on the table, and Teddy copied her with a grin. "Ron is taking care of the food, Luna will invite the Slytherins, uh, Neville would you mind asking some of the DA? I'm sure they'd like to support your boyfriend Harry, so don't give me that look. You have to admit, dating you will make Draco pretty popular." Neville stood up, and tucked his chair under the table. "I'll see about some decorations. Harry let me know what Madame Rosmerta says, and I'll come over and help you set up." She left the table as well, heading towards one of the library bookcases, searching for a book on decorating spells.

That left Harry alone at the table with Ginny. She looked over at him expectantly. "Well?" She said, stretching out her foot to touch Harry's under the table.

Harry drew his leg back. "Well what?"

"Don't you have something to tell me?" She asked, fluttering her eyes at him.

"Yeah actually. If you're coming to the party you better not start anything, Gin, I'm serious." He pushed back his chair with a scowl. "Come on Teddy." He scooped the toddler up, holding him with one arm, and collecting the child's toys with the other hand. "Bye Ginny."

The red head girl watched them leave with a scowl. Teddy noticed her watching, and stuck his tongue out at her; his hair turned the exact shade as Draco's, as Harry's green eyes peered back at her from the baby's head. She threw a book, and it hit the table nearest the door, where Harry had been standing a few seconds before. Madame Pince appeared, shushing Ginny, before throwing the girl out of the library.

"And don't come back until you learn some appreciation for books!" the librarian shouted after the fuming teenager.

Ginny flipped her off without turning around. Librarians weren't allowed to give out detention, especially not during the summer, so Ginny really didn't care that she was being rude. She was just so annoyed. She couldn't believe Harry would brush her off like that, after everything they'd been through together? Knowing that she loved him, he still chose Malfoy over her? It was aggravating, even more so knowing that only she thought there was something wrong with the scenario; even Ron seemed to be siding with the Death Eater brat.

Harry was supposed to be with her, _her damn it_; she already had the wedding planned out.

_XXX_

Harry's head bobbed in the fireplace. A small green flame burned just beneath his chin, the flames jumping slightly as he shouted. "Hello? Anyone here?"

"Hello?" A woman's voice called. Madame Rosmerta appeared, kneeling before the fireplace, a warm smile washing over her face as she gazed down at Harry. "Oh, hello lovey. How are you?"

"I'm great, and you?"

"Well, the old shack is still standing, so it can't be too bad. I was a lot luckier than Aberforth anyway." Her voice grew quieter, and she heaved a sigh. Then she smiled again. "I was lucky. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"My, uh, boyfriend is eighteen today and I was wondering if we could hold a small party here? We'd bring the food and the decorations, and stuff, but would it be ok? See, some of his friends are Slytherins and they won't be allowed into Hogwarts until all of the trials are over, and the Hogs Head isn't in any condition to host a bunch of kids. If it isn't ok, that's fine. Really."

"Nonsense. If I can't help out the Boy-Who-Saved-Us once in a while, how would that make me look, huh?" She grinned at him. "Come on over."

"You sure?" Harry's eyes were wide, his smile stretching.

"Sure am. Come on, get those friends of yours and let's get this place ready."

"I have to go find Hermione and tell her to floo over. I'll be there in a few minutes ok?"

Rosmerta stood up. "Out of curiosity, who is this boyfriend of yours? I've heard hide nor hair of a mention of him before now." Harry's smile widened, and Rosmerta was glad to see the boy so cheerful. Surely his boyfriend must be the best of people.

"Draco Malfoy." Harry said. Madame Rosmerta's face fell, her eyes clouding over slightly and she clenched her hands at her sides as she remembered what he had done to her. She wouldn't make a scene, she told herself. If he made Harry happy, then the boy couldn't be so bad. "Is something wrong?" Harry asked, noticing the dark look on her face.

"No, no, lovey. Just thinking, is all. Go get your friend."

Harry's head disappeared from the fireplace, and he went in search of Hermione all the while thinking about Madame Rosmerta's reaction. There was something important he thought he should remember, but so much had happened in the last two years that it was hard for Harry to pin point it. She'd recovered well enough though, he thought. Maybe it wasn't so bad. She would have cancelled the party otherwise, right?

_XXX_

June 5th 1998. That night.

Lucius and Narcissa waited patiently by the door to the Head Boy suit. Draco appeared, a shy smile on his face. "Where are we going?" He asked again.

"Harry is throwing you a party. He's meeting us there." Narcissa answered. When Draco was by her side, she drew him into a hug. "I'm so proud of you, Dragon."

"Thanks, mum." Draco sniffed slightly. He blinked his eyes a few times, willing tears not to form, especially after his father joined in the hug. "Love you both. Now, where are we going?"

They managed to get him into Hogsmeade without telling him the location of the party. The outside of the Three Broomsticks was decorated with streamers and there was a large banner handing over the door declaring 'Happy 18th Draco'.

"I can't go in there!" He said, his voice catching. "I can't go in there. I'm sorry." He turned on his heel and ran, not noticing Harry appear in the doorway of the pub.

"Where's he going?" The brunette asked as he came outside to greet the elder Malfoys. He had a full bottle of Firewhiskey in one hand and a Butterbeer in the other.

"He said he couldn't go in there." Narcissa sounded as confused and as worried as Harry did. "I wonder what that was about?"

"Oh shit." The brunette gasped, his hand rising to cover his mouth. "Teddy is inside with Hermione and Ron, will you keep an eye on him please?" He took off after Draco, jogging rather than running. When he got back to their rooms, he wasn't too exhausted, but he paused to catch his breath before calling out to his mate. He heard a sniffle coming from the bedroom and let himself inside. "Hey, love. I'm so sorry, I completely forgot."

"I couldn't go in there, Harry. The last time I was there, I put her under the Imperious and told her to poison Headmaster Dumbledore!" Draco rubbed his eyes on his sleeve. "I'm sorry I ruined your party."

"Hey, hey," he said reaching out to cup Draco's cheek. "It's your party. And you can cry if you want to." Draco just gave him a confused look, so Harry ignored the silly Muggle comment he had just made and instead pressed his lips lightly to his Veela's. He handed over the Firewhiskey. "We'll just have to have our own party, won't we?"

After finishing the first bottle, as well as the Butterbeer, Harry had called Kreacher and begged another two bottles of alcohol from the Elf. They had finished the second bottle of 'Old Ogden's Firewhiskey' and were halfway through a bottle of 'Gideon's Dry Gin', when Harry leant over to kiss the blond. Drunken fumbling followed, and ended when Harry tried to roll on top of Draco and ended up rolling them both over the side of the bed. The two teenagers laughed hysterically, the bottle of Gin rolling around on the floor, the contents socking into Harry's socks. Draco picked it up and took a swig. He stood, and sat on the edge of the bed, crooking a finger at his mate.

Harry chuckled, and tried to stand, but he ended up tripping over some lego that belonged to Teddy. Landing on the floor, surrounded by the offensive lego, Harry was suddenly overcome with a rage so strong he could feel it burning away the alcohol inside of him, like flames evaporating water. He was on his feet a moment later, ignoring Draco's drunken giggling and grabbed his wand off of the bedside cabinet.

He pointed it at the lego. How dare that filthy Muggle toy humiliate Lord Voldemort?! "Incendio!" He roared and the lego quickly caught fire. The fire spread, from the lego, to a stuffed dog that Remus had given to Teddy, and then onto a puzzle that lay on the ground beside the other things.

"Stop it!" Draco shouted, sobering up as the fire spread. "Aguamenti," he pointed his own wand at the fire, and a jet of water put out the flames. "What are you doing, Harry?"

Harry turned on him, his wand pointed at Draco's face. Harry's face was expressionless, but his lips quickly turned down into a sneer, as the green eyes narrowed. "Malfoy," he hissed, his anger palpable. "You filthy traitor. _Cruc_-!" His scar flared. His hand flew to clutch at his forehead, dropping his wand and leaving the spell half cast. He panted, on his knees before the wide eyes blond, his nails clawing at his scar, which continued to throb.

"H-Harry?" Draco asked, his wand pointed at his mate's head. "Are you ok?"

"Draco?" He looked up, and Draco's immediately lowered his wand. His mate seemed so confused, his eyes wide and worried as he looked around at the destroyed toys. "What happened? I don't feel so good, Dray."

Draco helped lift Harry off of the floor, and pushed the brunette down onto the bed. "You had too much to drink. Just go to sleep ok?" With a wave of his wand, the sheets were no longer soaked with gin, and Harry's clothes were dry as well. Draco's waved his wand again and the smell of burning disappeared from the room. "Goodnight."

"Love you, Draco." Harry mumbled, his face pressed against his pillow.

Draco lay down behind him, his body tense as he waited to see whether Harry would have another 'episode'. He tried to think, tried to recall, what had cause it, why had Harry gotten so angry? The alcohol he had consumed helped numb his mind and soon enough Draco was asleep.

Harry thrashed from side to side; his dreams filled with images of a boy who looked so much like him. "Incendio," the thirteen year old whispered, with his wand pointed at a mouse he had in a small cage. Tom watched with a satisfied grin as the rodent caught fire, squeaking and squealing as the flames consumed its small body. When all that was left was bits of charred flesh clinging to bone, Tom picked up the cage and carried it out of the Third Year dorms. He left it beside the bed of seventh year Alexander Rookwood, and headed back to bed, smirking to himself. He could have fed it to his newest pet snake, Harry supposed, but then dear Alex wouldn't have the pleasure of finding out exactly what happened when you called Tom Riddle a freak.

_XXX_

June 6th 1998.

Harry woke before Draco for once. The bed was wet again, and the room smelt of burning flesh, which it shouldn't have because Harry was sure he hadn't set anything living on fire last night. He dried the sheets using magic, but didn't change them for fear of waking Draco up. He hoped desperately, that the blond would be too hung over to differentiate the scent of dried urine with Gin.

He dressed himself, not taking the time to shower, and ran from the suit. Neither of the elder Malfoys was awake, so neither of them was around to question him as he sped through the living room, out of the portrait hole and then away from the dungeons.

He banged his fist against the Fat Lady, scowling as the woman peered at him through one eye and then went back to sleep. "Open up, damn it." He cursed, hitting the picture again.

"How rude," the Fat Lady muttered, her eyes still closed. The portrait opened a fraction, and Harry pried it wider, squeezing himself through the gap before the Fat Lady slammed shut catching the back of his shirt. He resisted the urge to set the back of the painting on fire; instead, he tugged his shirt free and took a handful of calming breaths. His eyes flashed red, but no one was around to see it.

He tried to run up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, but the stairs disappeared and Harry ended up slipping down the slide on his arse. "Come on, I don't even fancy girls!" He shouted. The stairs appeared again, and Harry ran up them, thanking Hogwarts under his breath. He ran into the room, noticing that it was empty except for Hermione and Ginny (who seemed to have decided to sleep in the wrong dormitory).

He shook the brunette, climbing onto the bed beside her. "What?" She murmured, "Tempus."

'5:49 am' appeared in front of them, made out of smoke.

Hermione cursed softly and looked up at Harry. "What is it?" She asked tersely.

He swallowed heavily, rubbing at his eyes tiredly with his clenched fist. He wanted to hurt her. He really wanted her to wake up, and demand she use a civil tone when speaking to him. How dare that upstart Mudblood speak to him in such a manner, how disrespectful? He'd show her. His hand reached for his wand, but he stopped himself.

Red eyes looked down at Hermione's startled, pale face. "H-Harry?"

"I think something's wrong with me," he said at last. The 's' sounds were drawn out, and Hermione couldn't help but think Harry sounded just like Voldemort did. His eyes, green again, watered and he squeezed them closed so he wouldn't cry. "I think something is very wrong with me."

He lay down beside her on the bed, and despite the terror she felt at the similarities between her friend and Lord Voldemort, she wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. "It's ok, Harry." She kissed his forehead. "We'll do the purification ritual soon, I promise. I'll start getting everything ready later today."

"I'm sorry." He whispered, clutching at the blankets with both hands.

"What for?"

"I really want to hurt you," he looked up at her, his face ashamed, "for being a Muggleborn." Hermione's mouth opened and closed a few times, but there wasn't anything she felt she could say in reply, so she sighed and kissed Harry's forehead again. She stayed awake until she made sure Harry was asleep. She took his wand off of him. Only then did Hermione feel comfortable enough to go back to sleep.

**XXX**

* * *

The rabbit scene was taken from HBP, chapter 13. It pained me to do that because my friend just bought a pet rabbit. Let me know what you all thought.

Let's get something straight. I write to receive reviews. Some people might tell you they write for fun and don't expect reviews, well, they lied. Most people update once they receive reviews. I don't see the point in updating for an audience that are either not interested, or want you to believe they are not interested. You can either try and review (though it isn't really that hard) or I will not post here.

Thank you to those that do review. I dedicate this chapter to you. You'll know who you are.


	9. Monster

Short chapter compared to the rest of the chapters in this story previously. I apologize.

Congratulations to the following people for guessing correctly regarding Harry's three 'problems': at _AFF_, **Jullians**, **MeuMeu2**; at _HPFandom_, **Sak**; and at _FFNet_, **Chromde** and **Abraxis**. If I forgot anyone, or if anyone has reviewed and guessed correctly after I wrote this but before I posted, I apologize.

As someone once said, "hell is other people". I'm going to paraphrase that, and say "hell is exams!" instead.

* * *

**Words: **4,505

**Chapter 9**

**Monster**

June 6th 1998.

Sometime during the early morning as he slept, Harry had rolled over so he was now lying face to face with Hermione. He woke first, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back slightly. That movement had the unfortunate effect of pressing his morning erection against Hermione's thigh. The brunette Witch was only half asleep, and in response she grabbed fist fulls of Harry's hair and pressed herself against him.

"Oh Ron," she whispered, and pressed her thigh to his groin again.

Harry fought back a grin as several wicked thoughts flashed through his mind. He picked one, and allowed the smirk to blossom over his face as he spoke. He moved his hand so it rested lightly on her bum and groaned, "Draco, yes more, right there. Oh Draco!" in the breathiest voice he could manage, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips.

Hermione's eyes snapped open; her mouth formed a little 'o' of horror as she saw Harry's very amused face.

"Having a good dream, Mione?" He asked casually, taking his hands off of her.

She drew back from him as if burnt, both of her hands pressing over her mouth as her breath came heavy and her face flushed scarlet in embarrassment. She opened her mouth to apologize, but her eyes fell on the form of Ginny first. The redhead was standing at the side of the bed, arms crossed, and a furious expression on her face. Harry turned to see what Hermione was looking at. When Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, he merely cracked a small smile.

"What the hell is going on here?" She shrieked. Hermione and Harry met each other's eyes, and simultaneously burst into peels of laughter. "I don't think Ronald would find this as funny, Granger!" Ginny said furiously. It had the desired effect of stopping Hermione's amusement. "But I forgive you Harry. I'm sure it wasn't your idea." She offered him a sympathetic smile, and it immediately sent Hermione and Harry both into uproarious laughter. After another two minutes, Ginny finally stormed out of the dormitory, no doubt planning to tell Ron about his girlfriend's indiscretion.

"Will you be ok?" Harry asked as he rolled from the bed.

"Will _you_ be ok, is the more important question?" Hermione stood as well. She gathered a few items, and hugged them close to her chest as she watched her best friend run a hand through his dishevelled hair.

"I'll be fine, Mione. You wouldn't have it any other way." He left the room then.

She watched him go with a sad smile. It hurt her to admit that she was slightly afraid of him. When they had first woken, it had been embarrassing, but with Ginny there all of the humiliation had faded and there was only amusement left in the situation. But being alone with Harry again, remembering how he wanted to hurt her for being a 'Mudblood' last night, had made her skin crawl. She loved Harry, she did, but she had always been a little afraid of him, just a little bit afraid of what he could do when he was angry. It seemed now, though, that she had far more reasons to fear Harry than she had ever had before. Could it be possible? Could it be probable that Voldemort was still alive?

Could Harry be possessed?

_XXX_

June 10th 1998.

"What do we have first?" Dean asked, reaching across the table to snatch the Daily Prophet from Ron's hands. Harry sat stiffly next to Ron, his backside aching whenever he shifted and not for reasons he could live with.

Ginny had, in fact, told Ron about Harry's behaviour that morning four days ago, and despite the fact that she had tried to make it out to be Hermione's fault, Ron, enraged, had instantly gone in search of Harry. Harry had ended up getting punched in the face before Draco attacked Ron in his defence. Of course, then it finally dawned on Draco that the red head was accusing Harry of _sleeping_ with Hermione, and he had stopped short, his wand lowered as he turned wide, pain filled eyes on his mate. When Harry was busy explaining everything to the Veela, Ron, being Ron, didn't listen as well. Instead he took another swing at Harry, hit Draco instead, and then got a punch in the face of his own. When their fisticuffs turned into all out brawling, Harry had tried to intervene, only to get hit with a curse of Ron's that sent him flying across the hallway and landing on his arse with a resounding 'ouch'!

Madame Pomfrey had refused to heal them, having decided it was about time the Weasley and Malfoy families started to get along. Especially now when they both had ties to Harry. She had said all of this, and ushered them out of the infirmary before Harry even had the chance to tell her it was _him_ that was injured. Hermione said it served them all right and had refused to heal them as well. Ron, without permission, had tried to copy the spell Hermione always used, and instead of curing them, he increased the pain they were all in tenfold.

So here Harry was, four days later, barely able to sit down. Ron's eye was a right purple colour still, whereas Draco's was a little fainter. Harry's eye had bruised at all, but he did have a nasty looking split on his lip. He stood, finally decided it was better to stand at this point than to sit without a cushioning charm, and grabbed the paper back.

He opened it wide, and read it out loud for the rest of the table's occupants. "N.E.W.T.-Tastic," the headline screamed, "It is with great pleasure that I announce the answer to a question that has been plaguing the minds of many, students and parents alike. Due to the disastrous battle at Hogwarts, (Blessed Be, Harry Potter)," Harry's voice lowered on that sentence until it was barely audible, but from the red on his cheeks most people could guess what the reporter had written. "As well as the horrific events, Death Eater Professors and the unwelcome change to the curriculum, last years N.E.W.T.s were cancelled.

"It is an honour, for us here at the Daily Prophet, to be the only ones privy to news of this magnitude. I have been personally informed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister-Current, that anyone wishing to take his or her N.E.W.T.s from the previous years Seventh Year are most welcome to do so at the Ministry of Magic over the Christmas holidays. Those who are willing may sign their names at the bottom of this article and they will automatically be registered for the Ministry regulated revision classes that will begin at the end of June and carry on until November.

"This will, hopefully, cause less of a disruption to the remaining years at Hogwarts than having two groups of Seventh years will. Do bare in mind, readers, that those who do not attend the mandatory revision classes will not be allowed to take their examinations unless they have a Ministry approved excuse for being absent.

"It is with pleasure that I wish you all a fine morning. Once again, our thanks go out to Harry Potter, who is sure to pass all of his N.E.W.T.s come December. Digby Dengle, reporter."

Harry folded the paper back up and handed it to Dean with a scowl.

"I think someone has a secret admirer," one of the younger Ravenclaws teased.

"He's not very secret about it." Hermione giggled. She took the paper from Dean and opened it up nearer to the back. She let out a small gasp, raising her head to look at Ron and Harry in turn. She nodded towards the entrance of the Great Hall. "Anyone who was in my year may give me your names over the next week and I will add them onto the paper. As it is, I need my copy back." She stood, walking towards the door as Ron and Harry followed her. They both noticed that her hands were shaking, the paper clutched tightly in her fist.

"What is it?" Ron asked, his hand brushing the hair back off her face. "What's wrong?"

She opened the paper wide, showing them the small article four pages from the back, (where the reporters obviously hoped that no one would see it), that was mostly a picture of Fenrir Greyback standing beneath the Dark Mark emblazoned in the sky. "Mass murdering Werewolf, Greyback, claims the Dark Lord has not really fallen. He was spotted in Devon casting You-Know-Who's mark above the house of a Muggle family he had already slaughtered, while screaming 'the Dark Lord lives on'. In their blood, he left a message for the arriving Aurors. It was addressed to Harry Potter, and it read, 'All is not well, is it, Potter?'"

"Shit," was all Ron could say. Harry merely took the paper from her and read the small article for himself, before re-reading it twice. He looked at his friends with wide eyes, and shook his head softly.

"This isn't happening. He's gone, Mione. He's gone. Fenrir is lying!"

"He must be!" Ron agreed, patting Harry on the back.

Hermione watched the two boys convince each other that nothing was wrong with sad eyes. Maybe Voldemort wasn't still out there, but something certainly wasn't right, and she was going to get to the bottom of it! She waved her wand at them, healing their various injuries, before doing the same for Draco (who had just appeared behind them). Something was causing Harry to be unable to feel Draco's soul calling out to his own; something was giving Harry those nightmares. The red eyes, the flashes of irrepressible anger, all of those _signs_ only pointed to a handful of things. Either whatever magic Voldemort was immersed in transferred to Harry's scar when Voldemort failed to kill him, and that magic was still present; or Voldemort somehow had avoided death completely again, and was using Harry's scar to torment and punish him, more probably to cause the death of Harry and his loved ones; or, finally, that the scar somehow allowed Voldemort to posses Harry, and there was now a part of him living inside of her friend.

She took a deep breath. She had always been taught to leave the least probably situation to be studied last. The most likely in this case was that the scar needed to be cleansed, and so that was what she would do first. After all, what were the chances that Lord Voldemort, who always planned things to a t-, had _accidentally_ made Harry into a Horcrux?

She cleared her throat. "Let's do this Purification Ritual. If it works, Harry's scar will be free of Dark Magic and if that happens, he should be able to feel Draco's call."

"And if it doesn't work?" The Veela asked softly, as he came to move behind Harry, his arms wrapped around the brunette's neck and shoulders.

"Then we try something else, right?" Ron asked, looking at his girlfriend.

"Right."

_XXX_

June 11th 1998.

The moon was full. It bathed their section of the forbidden forest in its eerie white glow, which at the once caused the trees to seem more beautiful and more sinister. The light was beautiful, of course, but the night itself cast a foreboding feeling through the group. As far as they knew, there were no werewolves left in the forbidden forest, all of them having been gathered together after the battle to be interrogated at the Ministry. That included any classmates who may have been scratched or bitten.

Harry closed his eyes, thinking of the last time he saw Lavender Brown, stirring feebly on the ground with Greyback hovering over her, savaging her. He knew she survived, but he didn't know what kind of condition she was in. He didn't like the girl, but he didn't want her sterilized or executed for being a werewolf either.

Hermione cleared her throat, startling him from his thoughts. Green eyes locked onto her brown ones and she smiled at him softly. "Ok, Harry," she said, pointing at the six point star she had outlined onto the floor with ground up Ashwinder**1** eggs. "You sit in the middle of the star, and each of us will sit at one of the points."

Harry did as he was told. Carefully, so as not to smudge the lines of the circle, he lowered himself to the ground in the centre of the star, sitting cross-legged. Draco sat at the head point of the star, directly opposite him. On either side of the blond, sat one of his parents. Hermione sat directly beside Harry, as the person who would be carrying out the ritual. Ron sat on one side of her, and George on the other. He had volunteered when they had gone searching for a sixth person, and in the end it was a choice between George, who was developing an unhealthy obsession with Harry but wanted to help, or Ginny, who already had an unhealthy obsession with Harry but _didn't_ want to help.

Hermione held a small black candle in her right hand. The rune for 'Light' was carved into the base of the candle. Each of the others had a white candle, various runes were carved into those as well, ranging from 'Purity' to 'Clean' to 'Guidance' to 'Clarity' and Draco held the candle with 'Dark' written onto it.

She took another deep breath, and began to chant.

The words flowed easily from her mouth, rolling over her tongue, and bubbling out of her throat so much easier than it had been the night before when she had remained awake for most of the night practising. The words seemed to almost take form, each of them changing to resemble one of the runes that decorated the various candles. The runes swirled, twisting in the air, the words of Hermione's chant running around and around the edges of each rune, drawing it into the air in a ceaseless pattern. Harry watched the magic work with a hungry expression on his face. Everyone else had long ago succumbed to the lull of the magic, their eyes having fallen shut, as they whispered the words after Hermione softly and reverently. But Harry watched the runes.

He watched as they circled those with the candles matching their own shape, and he watched as those runes pressed against the Wizard or Witch's forehead, leaving a small mark in their wake as they faded. The mark glowed, much like he thought his scar sometimes did, but then the glow faded and a new rune appeared to take its predecessors place.

The longer Hermione chanted, the more words appeared, circling around Harry at the centre of the Star. His innate magic lashed out, instinctively trying to protect its host from this foreign, strange magic. Eventually, Harry's magic was subdued, and his conscious, like his friends, floated along unaware and caught in the web of magic the ritual had created around them. Their bodies swayed, and their eyes were closed, their lips parted slightly, but their hands remained clenched around their candles, except for Harry's. His fingers twitched. Almost of their own accord they reached into his pocket and he withdrew his wand. The feel of the wood in his hands was familiar to him, he instinctively recognized the holly and phoenix feather wand that belonged to him and he gave it an appreciative squeeze.

But there was another part of him that was less pleased with the wand. The hand reached back into Harry's pocket, searching for the yew wand that truly belonged to him. When he didn't find it, an angry snarl escaped from his lips and red eyes snapped open. He took in each of those in the clearing with him, wondering which one was foolish enough to steal the wand of Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort let out a gasp, his hand flying up to clutch at his forehead as pain flared through his being. He repressed another snarl. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decide which of those fools had hexed him. He took in the Gryffindor colours on those who sat behind him and nodded his head lightly. It had to have been one of those three; only Gryffindors imagined themselves brave enough to stand against his fury. No Slytherin, no Hufflepuff for that matter would dare! He turned to them, his wand pointed at the brunette Witch who carried on chanting.

~~~"**What are you doing to me?**"~~~ He asked her, his voice a mockery of politeness.

Hermione didn't answer. She was so caught up in the ritual that she didn't even hear him. She wouldn't have understood him even if she had heard him speak.

Voldemort's head started to bleed lightly, at first, but soon enough he had his hand pressed against it to stem the blood flow. He could feel a slight abnormally of the skin beneath where it was bleeding, but he knew for a fact that he didn't have a scar on his forehead. Then again, he mused as he cast a spell to stop the blood flow, he normally didn't participate in rituals unless he was sacrificing something for his gain. Nor did he recognize any of those in the clearing with him.

As he thought that, his eyes narrowed suddenly, and his lips drew back revealing his teeth, as he turned to stare at Draco with a frightening look upon Harry's face. Draco's eyes opened slowly, quickly becoming aware of Harry's wand trained between his eyes. It was strangely familiar to the episode a week ago where Harry tried to Crucio him. "Harry?" He asked softly.

It was enough to catch the attention of the others, barring Hermione, who continued to chant with her eyes closed. They watched warily as Harry pointed his wand at Draco, his ferocious sneer on his face. ~~~"**Malfoy,**"~~~ He hissed in Parseltongue. ~~~"**You filthy little traitor. How dare you betray Lord Voldemort? You and your family will beg for death! Do you think Potter will save you? He belongs to me now, body and soul! He is MINE!**"~~~ The red eyes travelled around to each face, as Harry stood and turned in a cautious circle, the wand moving from one person to the next, before landing back on Draco again. He hissed something else, but Draco could only understand his name, being screamed at him in that horrible sibilant hissing that Lord Voldemort favoured.

That wasn't Harry anymore.

"Who are you?" Draco said, raising a trembling arm to point his own wand at his mate's body.

~~~"**Who am I? Who am I, you ask? I am death and destruction, fear and pain and hunger, thirst and desperation. I am the anger that lurks within the hearts of the kindest person, I am the power everyone craves and I am the punishment awaiting those weak enough to fail. Who do you think I am, boy?**"~~~

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Hermione said softly, breaking away from the chant that obviously wasn't doing what it was meant to. It seemed her first idea, the simplest one to fix, wasn't actually the correct idea. "Do you honestly believe we will let you win? Do you think that Harry will let you win?"

A scratching sound caught Voldemort's attention, and his head turned to face the bushes where a rat had appeared, even while his red eyes remained on Draco's pale face. The rat peered at him with its beady eyes, and Voldemort felt Harry's lip curl in distaste.

"Sectumsempra," he whispered and the rat's tail flew up into the air before landing in George's lap. The rat squealed and screeched, the stump of its tail bleeding as it ran in circles, its mind driven mad by the pain. Voldemort let out a small chuckle before turning his head fully to face Hermione once again.

~~~"**He has already lost.**"~~~ Voldemort drawled. Hermione couldn't understand him, but she was smart enough to guess that he had said something along the lines of 'I've won already', or 'Harry will not defeat me again'.

"Harry always wins, Voldemort." She pointed her wand at him. "Always." She blew out the candle in front of her, ending the ritual that hadn't worked. It did have the effect of causing Harry's scar to split open again. Blood poured from his head as Harry and Voldemort both screamed from the pain. Green eyes rolled back into his head, as Harry slumped to the floor. His wand rolled towards George who picked it up hesitantly and handed it to Draco.

The blond watched Harry with wide eyes. His face was paler than Hermione had ever seen it but he stood, a look of resolve on his face as he bent to pick up Harry, before turning to face her. His cheeks had coloured in anger, even while his hands shook with fear. "We will make him ok." Draco demanded.

Hermione nodded her head as the others followed Draco's lead and stood also. "Yes. I think I finally know what's wrong with him." She reached out to brush his fringe back, sticky with blood, revealing the red looking wound that was no longer bleeding. "He'll be fine, I promise."

_XXX_

June 12th 1998.

When he woke, the bed was wet again. It was something he had come to expect in the mornings, so he honestly couldn't say he was embarrassed about it this time. Everyone had to find out eventually he supposed. He was a freak, he always had been; it was as simple as that. His friends wouldn't hate him because he had a bladder problem, would they?

Although—

He froze as whispered words reached his ears. He strained his head, tilting to the side, trying to catch as much of the conversation as he could.

"Wet the bed," one person said.

Another voice hurriedly added, "and he set some of Teddy's things on fire a week ago. Draco mentioned it." That was Narcissa, Harry thought.

"All combined with the fact that he seems to have no problem torturing animals," Hermione voiced, "is rather worrying. I've heard about it, of course, the three things to watch out for in developing serial killers. Harry is exhibiting all three signs."

"It's not Harry." He recognized that voice as Draco's. "This is Voldemort we're all talking about, not Harry. Harry hasn't done anything wrong."

"We never said he did." Someone tried to placate, but Harry couldn't pin point the voice.

"Veela can't hurt their mates right?" Ginny asked snidely. Draco must have nodded because she giggled, then said, "So I suppose mates shouldn't hurt their Veelas?"

"Of course not."

"Well," she drawled, "either he isn't your mate, or you're a very undeserving Veela."

Draco let out a screech at that. Hermione and Narcissa both gave a loud gasp, at the same time as Lucius drew his wand and Ron shouted, "watch it, Ginny". Harry didn't know who did what though, as he couldn't see, but he wanted to defend himself and comfort Draco but he had to admit Ginny had a point.

Maybe he wasn't Draco's mate?

No. He was. He could feel it. He loved Draco, and Draco loved him, and they wanted to be with one another. They had yet to consummate the bond; despite both of them feeling ready, for fear that he wasn't Draco's mate. Having sex with him would be a betrayal of his real mate, if that were the case. Deep down inside of him, he knew he belonged to Draco, just as Draco was his.

Draco certainly wasn't undeserving, nor a bad person or Veela. He deserved to be loved and adored with the best of them, but Harry had to admit he was doing a piss-poor job of late.

"That was the Dark Lord!" Lucius shouted. The normally stoic man seemed to have lost control of his emotions over the last day. Watching what he had in the forest, watching his son threatened by Lord Voldemort whom they all thought defeated, and knowing that making Draco happy meant leaving him with the person who was the greatest threat to Draco was doing nothing for his nerves.

"You-Know-Who is the monster here, not Harry." A quiet voice added.

"But Harry still hurt Malfoy, so they can't be together. Harry should be free to be with me." Ginny protested.

"Stop making this about you, Ginny!" Hermione scolded. "This is about Harry and Voldemort, the way it always is!" She sighed. "I think I know what's wrong with Harry. But it certainly isn't his fault. It just goes to prove that Voldemort truly was a monster."

Harry held his breath. Waiting to see what she said. Needing whatever it was to make him feel better. Maybe she was right? Maybe none of this was his fault. He had tried so hard, as hard as he could, but it apparently hadn't been enough. Maybe that wasn't his fault either?

"I believe I am partially to blame. When Mr. Potter awakens, send him to me, if you would." Professor Snape drawled and Harry's mouth fell opened at the very fact that the man was here, in the Hospital Wing, for him! "I have something that I should have told him much sooner than this, but as always Albus believed it best to let Harry discover the truth on his own." Snape snorted. "Idiotic boy. Albus always did have too much faith in him."

"Now really, Severus," Narcissa chided, "do you have to be so cruel?" A door slammed shut and Harry could only assume that Snape had left. Maybe, if Snape knew what was wrong with him, there was a way to fix it?

It might be possible that he wasn't a monster, that this was all truly down to Voldemort, and there was a way to cure him. Maybe he—

"Harry is a Horcrux."

—Was a monster.

He was an abomination. Nagini had been the only other living creature to have the soul of someone else inside of her, and she had been as evil as the Dark Lord. Did that mean he was evil too? He was! He had to be. He attacked his mate, he threatened his best friend, he even dreamt about torturing little children he didn't even know. So what if they were Voldemort's memories? He had enjoyed the dreams as well!

"Please," he whispered. He didn't want the others to know he was awake. He didn't want to see their horrified expressions, to hear their pity and sympathy and have to face their accusing stares or fake forgiveness. He didn't deserve to have them as friends, and they all probably knew it. "Please fix me." He didn't know whom he was asking for help from. All he knew, was that he was _begging_ for help.

He needed help.

**XXX**

**1** – Ashwinder; a snake that is born from a magical fire that had been left burning unchecked. Usually, they live long enough to lay eggs, before they die. The eggs are mainly used in potions, since the actual snake only survives long enough to lay its own eggs after hatching.

* * *

Should be studying… but I'm having withdrawal once again. It's been way too long since I updated. Show me some understanding and appreciation? Flutters eyelashes. My exams start Tuesday and run through until Friday… I shall update The Lambs when I have gotten over my expected Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.


	10. Disastrous

I went to England, and didn't update anything. Sorry. But, good news, I know how much longer there is to go with this fiction! There are only so much more I can do with it once they find out Harry is a Horcrux. Though I suppose I could just kill more people? Fenrir would like that.

The ending sections of this chapter contain the implied use of suicide, and fully consensual sex between Harry and Draco, at long last.

* * *

**Words: **5,674

**Chapter 10**

**Disastrous**

June 15th 1998.

He'd put it off for three days. First, hiding in the hospital wing with the curtains drawn around his bed so nobody could see him, or feigning sleep so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone. Then later locking himself away in deserted classrooms, his knees tucked to his chest, rocking back and forth while he tried desperately not to sleep, not wanting to give into the nightmares he knew would follow. It had been three days since he woke up after the botched ritual, three days since Snape told the others he knew what was wrong. He had three days worth of chances to view Severus' remaining memories, collected when the man thought he had been dying, but Harry had put it off.

He knew he was a Horcrux, and he knew he had to be destroyed, but knowing something and seeing it for himself were two different matters. He couldn't trust himself to watch those memories calmly and detachedly. He could, even now, imagine himself latching on to Snape and begging for death, or relief, or anything as long as the burden was taken away from his hands. He couldn't do any more. He was exhausted. Everyone always left the decisions up to him, and while he appreciated being told what was going on, he hated being the one responsible if a plan went awry.

There was little doubt in his mind that if he had let Snape die, he would have seen all of those memories, and he would have defeated Voldemort properly. But then Snape would have been dead, and Draco would have been Mateless. How was it fair to leave that decision up to him? He was bias, he wanted to live and be with Draco, and he certainly didn't want any more death on his conscious. It was at times like this that Harry desperately wished Dumbledore hadn't died. The older wizard had always been good at making people do what they didn't want to do for the greater good. Harry could use someone like that right now.

He had taken several deep breaths, trailing his fingers along the walls as he walked, trying to ground himself. He felt as if his soul was rising out of his body and floating away, preparing itself for death, numbing his body to whatever pain would follow. He needed to stay there, to be there, so he touched what he could, trying to remember if anything interesting had happened in that particular stop over the past number of years at Hogwarts. When he finally stopped outside of the Potion Masters chambers he couldn't quite bring himself to knock. Instead, he slumped to his knees, his forehead pressed against the cool stone at the base of the portrait as he sucked in deep lung fulls of air.

The portrait swung open, and Severus sneered down at him. "Stand up, foolish boy, and come inside." When Harry didn't move, Snape bent down and grabbed a fist full of the boy's robe and dragged him to his feet. He pulled Harry through the portrait hole, and all but shoved the child down into a chair. "Wait here." He said gruffly, and disappeared into another room. He returned a moment later with the familiar basin in his hands, thrusting it towards Harry with a scowl on his face.

With his eyes closed, Harry let his head fall forward, into the Pensieve.

Harry watched them, Snape and Dumbledore, as they walked around the grounds. The area was deserted, and it was at that point in time when the sun was almost set and the moon had almost risen, and an eerie brightness was cast across everything in sight. Harry smiled softly; twilight had always been his favourite time of the day. Every thing always seemed so unnaturally beautiful in the twilight.

"You trust him," Snape said softly to the elder wizard, unaware of Harry's presence. "You do not trust me."

"It is not a question of trust." Albus answered. "It is essential that I give the boy enough information for him to do what he needs to do."

"And why may I not have the same information?" Severus queried, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "You confide in a boy who is incapable of Occlumency, whose magic is mediocre and who has a direct connection with the Dark Lord."

"Voldemort fears that connection. Lord Voldemort's soul cannot bear close contact with a soul like Harry's." Albus tried to explain, but Snape cut him off angrily.

"Souls? We are talking of minds!"

"In the case of Harry and Lord Voldemort, to speak of one is to speak of the other." Severus' face was pinched, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Harry could honestly say he was just as lost as the Professor appeared to be. He knew he was a Horcrux, and he knew that a Horcrux was made from a portion of a person's soul. Did that soul fragment cause his strange connection with Voldemort's mind? It must do, he reasoned, or why else would it be possible for Voldemort to keep possession him.

The scene swirled, stretching and shrinking as it changed. They were now in Dumbledore's office. Ironically enough, Harry was standing in the same position he had been in when Snape had killed Dumbledore. And there was Dumbledore again, standing calmly as Snape shouted at him, sitting stiffly in Dumbledore's chair.

"Now, listen closely, Severus. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bedding, it will be safe to tell Harry." Albus told him, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to circle Severus.

"Tell him what?" The younger man asked warily.

"Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself on to the only living soul in that collapsed building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry," Albus continued to speak, but Harry knew that. He knew he was a vessel for Voldemort's only remaining soul piece. He didn't particularly want to listen to it all again. He just wanted to know how to destroy it.

"So the boy… the boy must die?" Severus looked and sounded calm, but knowing what Harry did about his mother and Snape the teenager knew that the elder Wizard was upset by the revelation.

"And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential."

There was silence for a long while. Harry's head was spinning, he had expected it of course, the knowledge that he would have to die before Voldemort could finally be defeated, but how? How now when Voldemort was already gone, was the Dark Lord supposed to kill him? He actually stopped breathing for a moment when he considered the possibility that he may never get rid of Voldemort, that he might have to learn to live with that monster inside of him.

Severus tried to speak once, but seemed to choke on his words. Harry raised his head to look at the man, whose mouth was opening and closing though no words came out. A moment later, he composed himself enough to say, "I thought… all these years… we were protecting him for her. For Lily." Before Harry could hear anymore, a hand appeared inside the Pensieve. It grabbed onto Harry's collar and pulled him backwards, back into Severus' rooms.

Severus looked at the child, Lily's child, who was slumped back into the chair, his hands covering his face, and he felt the stirrings of pity. A small sob sounded in the otherwise silent room, and Severus' hand reached forward almost involuntarily, hovering in the air just above Harry's shoulder. The wizard seemed to be mentally arguing with himself, until finally he allowed his hand to drop. He gave Harry two awkward pats before withdrawing his hand and folding both arms across his chest defensively.

Harry looked up at him, blinking the tears away. "Will you kill me?"

"No."

"Someone needs to kill me."

"The Dark Lord, yes," Severus agreed quietly.

"But I've already killed him," Harry cried, tears falling down his cheeks again.

"So you have." Snape walked from the room again, taking the Pensieve with him. When he came back, he held a book out, giving it to Harry. The teenager looked at it, expecting it to hold the answers to all of his questions, but instead the title read 'Moste Potent Potions'. "Until such a time as someone does try to kill you, or another way of destroy the Horcrux is discovered, I suggest you study. Your NEWTs are at Yule time." With that he stalked to the portrait hole, ripped the door open, and merely pointed through it. Harry left silently, not noticing the sad look Severus gave him as he walked away.

Four hours of wondering aimlessly around the castle and avoiding all of his friends later, he sank down onto the stone stairway over looking the ruins of Hagrid's hut. The potions book was open on his lap, and he did try and read over it. The words blurred together, each sentence reading "_neither can live while the other survives_" instead of the actual instructions for whatever potion he was reading about.

"Hey," a soft voice said from behind him.

Harry looked over his shoulder at George. He waved slightly, and patted the ground beside him. "Hey yourself."

"What are you doing?" George leant over Harry, almost falling into the brunette's lap. He pulled the book towards himself, closed it and then read the cover.

"Snape said I should study," Harry said when George raised an eyebrow in question.

The red head smiled softly. It looked strained but it was better than nothing, Harry supposed. Every one had known how close Fred and George were; no one ever saw one without the other. And Harry couldn't imagine what it would be like to be with one person for all of your life and then suddenly have them ripped away. He thought quickly of Draco, and a small smile slid onto his face. He had Draco now, and after losing so many people he loved, he was going to do every thing in his power to keep the blond Veela safe. Even if it meant he had to die.

"The alliteration in that one sentence astounds me, Harrykins." George gave him another lop sided grin, before saying slowly, "she sells sea shells by the sea shore." He said it again and again, as Harry laughed, but by the third time it sounded more like, "sea shells sea sells by the sea shore."

While Harry was laughing, George leant closer and closer, unnoticed by the brunette. Green eyes widened as soft pink lips met his own. George's lips were harder than Draco's, a little more chapped, but they weren't bad. They brushed softly against Harry's mouth, but when the brunette didn't respond, they pressed harder. George's hand fisted into Harry's hair, pulling his head forward and crushing their lips tighter together. It was when George's tongue flicked out to trace the seam of Harry's lips that the brunette finally pulled away.

"What are you doing?" He asked, wide eyes and confused.

"Kissing you. I was wondering, lately, what it would be like." The red head answered nonchalantly. He didn't seem bothered by the blush spreading across Harry's lips, or the fact that he was inching away from him slowly, one hand covering his mouth and the other clutching the textbook against his chest like a shield.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I feel something for you, I suppose. I don't love you, not like Ginny says she does, but I feel a connection with you. We both have so much in common Harry. Can't you see that? You're the only one I feel comfortable around, the only one I can stomach touching me, the only one I want to speak to. I need you." The red head sounded desperate now. His hands stretched out towards Harry, but the brunette flinched back a little.

"I love Draco very much. I'm his soul mate George. You know that. Of course we're still family, nothing will change that."

"Yeah," George said softly as he stood up. He refused to meet Harry's eyes as he brushed down his robes. "Sure, whatever." He said before turning and walking away briskly.

Harry watched him go with a frown on his face. But he didn't follow. If he had followed George, Harry knew he'd either have to reject him again, or accept him, and he wasn't going to take George as a lover. George wasn't his soul mate, he didn't love George and he wasn't attracted to the elder boy. But he didn't want to hurt George either, because whether or not the red head believed him, Harry thought of them as family, and family was important to the brunette. So he just watched him walk away, and held his tongue, and resolved to talk to Molly about George's strange behaviour the next time he saw her.

_XXX_

June 17th 1998.

George, Harry later learnt, had locked himself in the room he was sleeping in, in the Tower and had refused to come out for the past two days. Harry likewise had been almost non-existent for those days as well. He had gone to meals, greeted the elder Malfoys pleasantly every morning and afternoon, cast longing glances at Snape, hoping the man would have found a way to defeat Voldemort, and generally avoided anyone with red hair. However he wouldn't engage in conversation, he didn't go out of his way to see people he knew, and when he was playing with Teddy in his rooms he generally just lay there and let the child jump on him. If one of the Malfoys or any of his friends appeared in the room, he'd take Teddy and lock himself in his and Draco's bedroom, only opening the door at night so Draco could go to sleep.

Hermione had concluded that something had happened between Harry and George because both boys were acting the same way George had been when the battle had just ended, and Fred was declared dead officially.

Draco couldn't get anything out of Harry, and he couldn't get anywhere close to George to interrogate him, so he had tried to let it go. Someone had hurt his mate, but his mate was perfectly able and willing to take care of himself. Draco had to keep repeating that to himself, especially when Ginny Weasley would walk past and smirk at him, before giving Harry a one armed hug (on the days he couldn't seem to avoid her) and saying, "oh don't worry so much. George will get over it. I'm sure he didn't mean it." Draco knew she didn't know what was going on either, but even the fact that she _pretended_ to know pissed him off.

After another similar run in with the little cow, Draco stalked into his room and threw himself down onto the bed. Harry was lying across the foot of the bed, reading through the potions book he had gotten from Snape. He looked up and smiled softly when he saw Draco. "Your mother took Teddy for a walk around the grounds with Lucius."

"That sounds nice. Why didn't you go?" He pulled his jumper off over his head. Ignoring Harry's amused smile, he folded the jumper neatly and lay it down on top of their shared chest of drawers.

"I wanted to read my book."

"You hate Potions," Draco drawled, pulling the book away.

"It keeps my mind busy."

"And you're reading it upside down." The blond raised an eyebrow as Harry's mouth fell open.

"Oh," he said with a blush. "Right, oops."

"Harry?" Draco sat next to him, pressing against the brunette's side when he sat up. "Are you ok? You can tell me what's wrong, you know."

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair, turning his head so his eyes were focused directly on Draco's face. "I love you, you know that don't you? I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Veela die with their mates, did you know? So if you want to keep me safe, you have to keep yourself safe. And I can't help protect you unless I know what is wrong, Harry!"

"George kissed me!" Harry blurted out. That topic was easier to discus than the alternative. How do you tell your soul mate that you are searching for the perfect person to murder them? Draco's face turned an alarming shade of red, his eyes narrowed and when his mouth parted Harry almost expected to see foam. "But it's ok! Honestly. I think he's just a little bit depressed. He's latching onto me because I've had so many people I love die, and he thinks that I can relate to what he is going through because of Fred. He doesn't love me or anything, he said as much, and I certainly don't care about him like that."

"You're mine!" Draco screeched, his voice rising rapidly as he fought to control the Veela's natural jealousies, and the urge to kill the person who was threatening the claim he had on Harry. "You are mine!"

Harry pulled Draco to his chest, his fingers tangled into Draco's hair as the boy panted against his neck. "I'm yours. I love you."

"Sorry." The blond said at last, but didn't pull away from Harry's hold.

"Do all Veela die if their mate does?" Harry asked softly. His mind was focused only on the thought that he would die; no matter how or when or by whom, he would have to die to defeat Voldemort. He didn't want Draco to die as well, not if he could help it.

"Only if they have bonded. If they remain unmated, or if the mate dies before the Veela becomes of age, then, uh, the Veela survives." He looked up at Harry then, pulling out of the brunette's arms, his eyes wide. "Why? What are you thinking?"

"Maybe we shouldn't-" Harry started to say, but Draco cut him off with a kiss. Their lips moved together slowly at first, then faster and harder, more desperately as Harry tried to pull back and Draco ended up climbing into the other Wizard's lap.

"You have to bond with me." Draco panted when he pulled away. "You have to!"

"Dray," Harry said softly, his hand cupping one of Draco's cheeks. "Greyback and those Rouges are still after me. I don't want to die knowing I got you killed."

Tears leaked from the corner of Draco's eyes, and he brushed them away angrily. Harry frowned as the blond stood up. Standing in the corner of the room, Draco hugged his arms around his chest, sniffling softly. "I won't do it. I won't live without my mate. If you die, I'd rather die with you than afterwards."

"But you won't die afterwards," Harry said slowly, not understanding what Draco was implying.

"I won't live without you." The blond repeated forcefully.

"Draco don't be stupid!" Harry shouted, standing up.

"I'm not being stupid. I mean it Harry! I waited my whole life for you, and I refuse to lose you now. I refuse to live without you. Please, please bond with me?" He cried harshly, the last sentence barely audible through his sobbing. He sank to the floor, curling up on himself as he cried, and Harry was at his side in an instant. He lifted Draco, and carried him back to the bed. They lay side by side, Draco crying into the front of Harry's shirt, softly begging, "don't leave me. Please bond with me."

When Draco was calm he rolled away, lying on his back with his arms thrown up to cover his face. When he wasn't looking, Harry stood and removed his clothing, allowing them to fall onto the floor in a haphazard pile. He snorted lightly at the sight of Draco's neatly folded jumper, because crawling on to the edge of the bed.

Draco uncovered his face as Harry spoke. "You, my love, are wearing too many clothes."

"Wha-?" The blond asked, unintelligibly. Harry didn't want to bond with him. So why was Harry naked? Unless Harry was going to have sex with someone else! A loud growl escaped his throat at that thought, but he calmed down immediately when he remembered there was no one else in the room with them. "You want to have sex with me?" Draco asked softly, as Harry came to hover over him.

"There's no one else I'd rather have sex with." He frowned, "that sounded more romantic in my head." Draco chuckled, his fingers clumsily unbuttoning his own shirt. He wanted nothing more than to touch Harry, and it was a struggle to keep his hands on his clothes rather than his mate's flesh.

"I love you," Draco whispered.

"Yeah well, I hope you know what you're doing, cause I have no idea."

Draco smirked then, suddenly feeling more confident. "It's instinctual that Veela always know how to _please_ their Mates." Harry's face heated up as Draco emphasised the word 'please' while grinning up at him lewdly. "I'm sure we'll figure it out."

The next handful of minutes was a blur of fingers and clothing, as the two boys hurriedly tried to strip Draco. Bare skin brushed against bare skin as the last of Draco's clothing dropped to the floor, and each boy gave a cry of surprise as they pressed against each other. Grey eyes stared up at Harry's face intently. The Veela spread his legs wider, not wanting to waste time with foreplay in case Harry changed his mind. When Harry was comfortably settled between Draco's spread thighs, he reached over for his wand.

"Do you know the spell, or should I summon something." Draco panted lightly, his head thrown back as he lost himself in the feel of his mate pressing down on top of him. Harry's erection was nudging his own, and it was all Draco could do to control himself. He wanted Harry inside of him, he wanted to bond with Harry, and he wanted his wings. He had waited so long for this moment, but he couldn't think of any spell that would speed things up.

After waiting a moment and receiving no answer, Harry summoned a tub of Vaseline out of his drawer. "This will have to do," he muttered, resolving to buy some decent lubricant if he survived long enough for it to matter.

As he coated his fingers, he thought about the future. He knew it wasn't fair on Draco to do this. Knowing he was going to die soon, Harry knew it was cruel to damn Draco to the same fate, but he was selfish. He supposed it was about time he was selfish, because for most of his life he had stood by while every one else got something while he was overlooked. For this first time, there was something solely for him. Draco was his. And Harry was weak when it came to saying no. If Draco wanted to have sex, if Draco didn't want to live without him, then how could Harry possibly deny his Veela that? As long as Draco was happy, Harry could pretend that he was doing the right thing.

He could try and pretend that Draco's death wouldn't be his fault.

Draco gasped as a finger entered him. Any discomfort he would have expected fled in the face of the knowledge that this was his mate. A part of his mate was inside of him. He pushed down on the finger, keening softly for more. A second finger joined the first, scissoring, and stretching Draco slightly. The blond threw his head back with a moan as Harry brushed against his prostate and caused him to see stars. Harry had his face buried against the hollow of Draco's throat. He took deep breaths, fighting to control himself. He didn't want to hurt Draco, and if he rushed he would undoubtedly harm the blond. He needed to control himself and take his time.

When the third finger finally entered him, Draco thought he was going to die. "Please, please hurry, Harry please, oh please," he panted, writhing on the bed. Legs spread, head thrown back, arms splayed and mouth wide open and begging: Draco was the picture of debauched, and it was enough to sap away the last of Harry's self control.

He coated his erection in some of the Vaseline before throwing the tub onto the floor. "Love you," he told the blond softly, lining himself up. Draco arched his back, lifting himself off the bed and forcing Harry to enter him. The feel of Draco, slowly surrounding him inch by inch, made the brunette groan and he thrust forward, burying himself within the Veela. Draco tensed up, his mouth opened again as he gave a gasp, and his eyes screwed up. Harry held himself still, waiting for permission to move. "Love you," he told the blond again.

"L-Love you too," Draco said at last, tightening his hold on Harry with his legs and arms.

Harry rocked forward, and Draco lost himself in the feeling of his mate inside of him. He felt like he was made from jelly. His entire body was tingling and he couldn't keep his arms around Harry anymore. They flopped down to lie by his head, and with one hand Harry pinned them both to the pillow. When his climax approached, Draco used what little strength he had left and flipped them over. Harry came hard, his head thrown back as he moaned.

Draco writhed in his lap. Harry's hand on his cock brought him to orgasm soon after. As Harry's seed entered him, he arched his back and groaned in pain. The brunette watched him worriedly, afraid that he may have hurt the blond. Before he could ask what was wrong, two feathered, white wings burst from Draco's back, spraying blood across the duvet. Draco sagged down onto Harry's chest, smiling softly to himself, and nuzzling his nose against his mate's throat.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw the wings. Green eyes alternated between staring at the wings, and staring at the bloody off cast. Both of which reminded him about the vivid dreams he had had last year. In every dream he had, where Draco had wings, he or Voldemort had tortured and killed the blond boy.

It was as he thought that, that Harry felt a stirring of something within him. His first instinct was that it was Voldemort, but then he realized the something was happy. Looking up at the blond, he realized he was feeling Draco. They had bonded, and now he could feel Draco's call. It was like rain on his skin, light and soothing, and just barely there. Not hard enough to annoy him, but he knew it was there nonetheless and it was warm and soft, and in this instance oh so welcome.

Something darker stirred within him as he thought about how happy he was with Draco. Taken by surprise, Draco found himself on his back again, his wings crushed beneath him. Harry was still inside of him, half hard, and Draco looked up, excitedly looking forward to the next round. Crimson eyes peered down at him alight with curiosity, lips curled in disgust.

"What does he see in you?" Voldemort asked, as his hands came to grasp Draco's throat. "You are weak, and pathetic. You are not a good match for my Horcrux. I could do so much better than you." Voldemort mused as his hands squeezed around Draco's neck.

The blond sputtered, desperately trying to take a breath, but Voldemort's hands stopped him. He felt sick as he thought of Harry being touched by that creature; his wonderful, pure, kind Harry, having to live with Voldemort inside of him. And speaking of having Voldemort inside of someone, choking Draco had gotten the man hard, and he thrust Harry's body lightly in and out of the blond as he kicked and struggled beneath him.

"You are pretty when you cry." Voldemort said softly. He took one hand off of Draco's throat to catch some of his tears as they fell. Voldemort licked them off his fingers. "Delicious. Truly." He complimented.

Draco gave a whine, his face slowly turning blue as his eyes rolled back. He fought to stay awake: he needed to know Harry was ok, he needed to know that Harry would be able to get his body back. He had to do what he could to help Harry defeat Voldemort. When Voldemort's hand came to his face again, Draco struggled harder, and ignoring the Dark Lord's laughs he managed to catch the hand in his mouth. He bit down hard, and Voldemort's scream of pain turned into Harry's screaming.

The boy almost threw himself across the room. Draco lay on the bed, panting, and clutching his rapidly bruising throat. Harry curled in on himself, his back against the wall, as he watched the blond with wide eyes. "I'm so sorry." He whispered, and his voice cracked slightly. He swallowed heavily, feeling like he was chocking on sandbags with every breath, but he knew it wasn't his throat that was paining. It was Draco's. They were bonded now, and he could feel Draco's pain. "I'm so sorry." He grabbed his trousers and pulled them on.

"Harry?" Draco sat up, his wings fluttering lightly behind him, as he slid off of the bed and tried to go to the brunette.

"I'm so sorry," he said again, pushing Draco away from him. He ran from the room, past a bewildered Narcissa who was only just entering through the portrait hole, and past Lucius and Teddy who were patiently waiting their turn to enter.

Draco used his wings to hide himself. They would have been pristine white except for the blood on them, and they were the length of his shoulder to his knee. They curled around his body, hiding his nakedness, as he appeared in the doorway to his and Harry's bedroom.

He offered his parents a small smile. The sight of his wings was enough to cause Narcissa to actually gasp out loud before she rushed forward to engulf her only child in a hug. "Oh darling, congratulations."

"What happened to your throat?" Lucius asked, as he settled Teddy down on the sofa with a handful of toys.

"V-Voldemort was not p-pleased that Harry a-and I were h-happy." He stuttered on a number of words, having to stop and clear his throat before he could complete the sentence. His throat ached, and he knew he'd need to get some bruise salve, or he wouldn't be able to talk at all this time tomorrow. He didn't need Harry feeling any guiltier than he already did. "It wasn't h-his fault, Father." Draco said sternly. He would have crossed his arms, but they were hidden by his wings, and as such were out of his father's sight.

"I never said it was." Lucius said coolly. "However, perhaps you both could refrain from being too 'happy' as you call it, until the Dark Lord is taken care of?"

"I suppose," Draco drawled, and ended up coughing harshly, clutching at his throat.

"Come dearest," Narcissa cooed. "Let's put some salve on those bruises, then you can dress and search for your mate. He's probably distraught." She dragged him to the bathroom, and Draco let her. The sooner he was healed, the sooner he could be with his mate again.

His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of his neck in the mirror as his mother applied the cream. Curse Voldemort, he thought angrily, he would not let that monster ruin what he had with Harry.

_XXX_

June 18th 1998.

Fenrir watched the Rouge Death Eater hurrying down the street towards the house he was hiding in. He thought it fitting, his hideout, and it was rather amusing even if Potter wasn't in on the joke. Tearing his eyes away from the Rouge, his eyes fell on the golden statue. To a Muggle it would be ordinary and unassuming, but Fenrir had once been a Wizard too. Under his gaze, the faces of James, Lily and baby Harry were easily distinguishable. He smirked at the shrine to the saviours of the Wizarding world. Two down, and one to go, he thought cruelly as the Rouge burst through the door.

As a werewolf his senses were stronger than a normal person's. From the first moment he had met Potter he had known there was something off about him. It was impossible for one person to have two distinct scents, not even soul seekers had that ability. One scent was definitely Potter's own, and the other had been so familiar, but distant that it took him a moment to realize. Potter smelt like Lord Voldemort had, the last time Fenrir saw him, before he tried to kill the Potters. The werewolf had found it all highly amusing when he realized that a part of Potter was also a part of Voldemort, and the Dark Lord didn't seem to realize it. As with all selfish beings, his true allegiance was to himself, and so he kept what little he knew to himself, intending to use it if he ever had to worm his way out of a tricky situation with the notoriously unmerciful Dark Lord.

"Greyback! Greyback!" The masked Rouge panted, excited. "I felt him, I felt him again. My mark burned last night. I thought it a coincidence, but it has been burning on and off since. He's returning isn't he?"

Fenrir smirked to himself, ignoring the excited chatter of the human man. So Voldemort's soul was growing stronger, was it? His eyes fixed on the face of the statue baby Harry, and he threw his head back and howled.

**XXX**

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please review.


	11. Misery Loves Company

Here is the next chapter. Yay for the filler chapter… Ah, to be fair a few important things do happen here, but they aren't as long as they could be because I didn't want the chapter to be tedious. I'm building you all up for the next chapter. Ginny does some bad stuff in Chapter 12.

I was meant to update Between Two Ages next, but I really want to finish this story. It might motivate me to finish some of my other ones. Brothers in Arms 4 has been started, just in case any of those who are interested missed it.

* * *

**Words: **5,155

**Chapter 11**

**Misery Loves Company**

June 21st 1998.

When a submissive Veela bonds it is generally a cause for celebration. In most instances, the two families are celebrating the bonding of much beloved children, and sometimes it's a celebration of alliances where a bonding has occurred between two feuding families. There are even times, not many admittedly, where a Dominant takes a second submissive in lieu of their first – who would no longer be pure – and they mate for a love of politics and not each other. But regardless of the whys and the hows, a bonding is a joyous event, and the submissives are rather proud of that fact.

Draco was no different to any other submissive before him. The fact that his bonding had gone a little awry didn't take away any of the effect it had on him. As with all submissive Veela, Draco spent the three days following his initial bonding proudly displaying his wings for all to see. Veela were unable to recall their wings for the first three days, which was probably why it was so hard for submissives that were no longer pure to hide that fact. After June eighteenth people who wanted to touch his wings had hounded Draco. Just the thought of it made him angry.

To a Veela, wings were off limits to anyone other than their family and their mates. If it had been Harry touching his wings, Draco would have likely melted to the floor, purring in pleasure and arousal. If either of his parents stroked his wings it would have the effect of calming him, or comforting, of letting him know he was loved and cared for. But those other people who had dared to touch him did nothing more than make him irritated and jumpy. Harry seemed to enjoy it though. The brunette still flinched slightly whenever attention was drawn to Draco's neck, generally when Ginny (who had seen Draco's bruises before they were fully healed) made it a point to blame Draco for the attack. As if to make up for hurting Draco during their bonding, Harry went out of his way to defend Draco from the others in the castle. Anyone who managed to touch Draco wound up the victim of a rather sever stinging hex.

Because of Harry's behaviour, the others' didn't keep it up for more than a day. But Harry being annoyed upset Draco, and so Draco tried his best to stay away from most of the people in Hogwarts. He and Harry usually spent the day inside with Teddy doing some much-needed revision.

Today was the first day Draco had been able to recall his wings. While Harry was saddened by the loss of the beautiful feathered appendages, he was strangely glad they were no longer there. Dreams of Draco with wings only led to dreams of dead Draco, and that was the last thing he wanted. With Draco's wings hidden he could at least pretend (or try to pretend) that there was no difference between this Draco and the Draco before they bonded.

The Malfoys had celebrated by taking the day to themselves. While Hogwarts was mostly rebuilt by now there was still a few things that needed doing. Many of the people who were helping who were familiar with the Ministry, Lucius included, were now found travelling back and forth between the two places finalizing the Yule exam schedule, finding teachers to replace those lost in the Battle, or doing odd jobs around the Ministry to help them reorganize theirselves.

Today, the Malfoys, Harry and Teddy found themselves sitting on a large blanket. They sat beneath a tree, shaded by its leaves, overlooking the lake. A small picnic (small in House Elf terms of course) was laid out before them, and each of them delighted in the fact that they were able to sit around freely and do absolutely _nothing_.

Their conversation flowed freely, and easily. Harry would have thought it might have been hard to talk to the parents of the boy he had tried to strangle but it wasn't that hard. The elder Malfoys seemed to be pretending it hadn't happened, and that was fine with Harry, if he were being honest.

Draco smiled over at his mate, throwing a grape at the boy's head. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry? What?"

"See, I told you mother! Obviously, whatever make believe people live in Harry's head are far more important than I am." The boy tilted his chin up, raising his nose in the air snottily and sniffed. "Not that I care, mind you, because Teddy loves me. Don't you?"

Harry just chuckled at his mate's behaviour. The toddler launched himself at Draco, his hair changing to the same shade of blond and his chin morphed so it was as pointed as Draco's had once been. Harry smirked at the sight of the two of them, and Narcissa even allowed herself a small smile as well. Both of them were thinking of what it would be like to watch Draco with his own child, but while Narcissa was imagining how long it would take until she had a grandchild Harry's thoughts were slightly more bitter. Harry was imagining what it would be like to live in a world where they could actually have a child before he died, and took Draco with him. A world where he had managed to defeat Voldemort properly.

"Yes," the child said softly. "Wuv Drako!"

"I love you too, precious." The blond replied, hugging the boy against him.

"Wuv daddy too!" Teddy turned his head to smile at Harry, his eyes the same shade of green. Teddy had taken to calling Harry his 'daddy' over the past week, and while Harry wasn't against it, he knew that Teddy deserved to know about his real parents. When Teddy was old enough, some one would tell him, Harry was sure. He smiled sadly, thinking about how unfair life was that it had already taken away the boy's father and was soon going to take away his 'daddy' as well.

"I love you," Harry said. He turned to meet Draco's eyes and whispered, "both of you."

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Eventually Lucius started to talk to his wife, who began to involve Draco in the conversation, and eventually Harry found himself talking and laughing along with them again. When the food was finished, Harry helped Narcissa pack the leftovers back into the basket. They chatted about unimportant issues while they worked, and whenever they fell silent Lucius reprimanded them for not bringing a textbook along with them.

"Father, we can't study on a picnic!"

"Your NEWTs are important, Draco, you have to take them seriously. You only have until Yule."

"That's a long while away father, and it isn't like I need to do much catching up. I attended most classes last year, and I didn't have much else to do at the Manor except cower before Him and revise."

"That may very well be, but Harry didn't attend school last year. You need to set a good example, Draco. You need to both do well."

"We'll do fine, Lucius," Harry said, chuckling softy. "Hermione has a revision schedule prepared for both of us. It helped me pass the OWLs, so I'm sure it will work just as well for the NEWTs."

"See, father! Nothing to worry about."

"We're your parents," Narcissa said with a scowl. "It's our job to worry."

Draco just rolled his eyes, and stood up. "It looks like rain." He grabbed Teddy off the ground, and held the boy carefully, propped up on one hip.

"Do you want to go inside?" Lucius asked. He looked up at the sky with a frown, noticing the rain clouds that his son had already seen. "It would probably be best."

Harry heard his name called and looked around. He spotted George waving and waved back. "I'll meet you inside ok?" He stood, pressed a kiss to Draco's lips and Teddy's forehead before he walked towards the red head.

"So you're talking to me now?" George asked with a scowl.

"Yeah, course I am." George grinned at him and Harry frowned. The boy's mood swings were going to give him whiplash one of these days. "Was there something in particular you wanted?"

"Nope. Can't I just hang out with my friend?"

"Well, of course you can, but it's about to rain."

"I like the rain. It's," he paused, frowning, "cleansing. You can cry and no one can tell if it is tears on your face or the rain." His hand cupped Harry's cheek lightly. "Do you ever cry in the rain, Harry?"

"Not recently."

"Not recently? Not now that you have Malfoy, and you're oh so happy and in love? Is that what you meant?" The redhead sounded angry now and Harry flinched back as George's nails began to bite into the flesh of his cheek. "Why are you happy without me? You were meant to understand! You were the only one I could relate to, the only one! You were supposed to make me happy!" George screamed at him, beating his shoulders lightly with clenched fists, and Harry stood still and allowed the abuse. If he had been stronger, he could have killed Voldemort before Fred had to die. Then George would never have been unhappy.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You're sorry? No you aren't Harry! You're happy and in love remember."

"I'm going to die," he whispered, wanting to confide in the Weasley boy, wanting to give his friend something tangible to hold on to. He wanted to give George something that he wouldn't have to envy Harry for. Death. Impending death. It wasn't a pleasant thought to Harry, and he didn't doubt that George would still be angry with him afterwards but at least he wouldn't hate him for letting Fred die if he knew that Harry, too, had to die.

"So am I," George hissed angrily. "So get over yourself!" He shoved Harry away from him. Harry landed on his arse, with a grunt. George took one more look at him, his face sheepish and ashamed looking, but he didn't apologize. Instead he ran away.

And when it rained, Harry tilted his face up and cried.

_XXX_

June 29th 1998.

The week that followed was a violent one. Of the eight days since the picnic by the lake, the Rogue Death Eaters attacked Muggles on five of those days. The night before Fenrir had led them out, as was the norm now, and he had stood by and watched as they tortured all of the children over the age of five in one of London's orphanages. Anyone over the age of five was killing quickly the moment they arrived. Though they were tortured, the other children were the lucky ones. As soon as the first of those had been killed, the Aurors arrived. They were in time to save the other Muggles, but they only managed to capture one Rogue.

He must have been a relatively new recruit, initiated not too long before Voldemort fell, because not even Lucius knew his name. Nameless though he was, he was weak and cowardly, and when threatened with torture and Azkaban he immediately gave up any information he knew pertaining to tonight's attack.

Kingsley took a deep breath and nodded to the person next to him. Arthur knocked on the door. A tall, dark haired Muggle answered the door, smiling bemusedly at the two strangely dressed men.

"We didn't have time to change," Arthur said with a smile, indicating to their Ministry robes. "But at least we'll fit in better this way." The priest frowned. He was wearing a black robe; they were dressed in a pink coloured one. "May we come in?"

The sign above the door read 'Juvenile Correctional Centre', but neither man paid it any mind as they stepped past the priest and into the building. "What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are," Kinsley said, mistaking the Muggle for an undercover Auror.

"Praying for the souls of these children?" He gave them another bemused smile, waving his hand at them to follow him. "Come, I'll bring you to the director of this institute."

They entered the room. A man who looked to be in his sixties sat behind a desk, his hair thinned and grey and he glared at Auror Banks**1** whose wand was laid out on the desk. "Destruction of property is a crime, young man. If you aren't careful you'll find yourself in a similar institute to this one."

"I didn't mean to." The Auror protested. "If you give my wand back, I could fix the stupid lamp."

"This," the man waved the wand, "could be classed as an offensive weapon. You could be arrested for having this in your possession."

"Mr. Dwight?" Arthur asked, striding into the room. Auror Banks turned around, saw Kingsley and seemed to wilt with relief. He watched the black Auror enter the room and grinned as he was handed his wand back. "Could we speak to you?"

"Banks, get to work." Kingsley ordered.

"How may I help you gentlemen? Pastor, you may go."

"I work for the Prime Minister." Kingsley said hurriedly. Time was of the essence after all. "We have received information that a terrorist organization was planning to attack this building tonight. I would like your help in evacuating the building temporarily while this matter is resolved." The Muggle opened his mouth to protest.

Arthur's wand was in his face. "Imperio." He spoke without quite realizing it. It was the first unforgivable he had ever cast, and his hand shook as he lowered his wand. "Bloody hell," he swore, his face paling as the Muggle just looked back at him with an expressionless face.

"You will do as I instruct." Kingsley said. Dwight looked to Arthur who nodded. The Muggle happily stepped back from that point and allowed Arthur, Kingsley and the other Aurors and Wizards to do what needed to be done.

When the Rogue's finally arrived, they were alone. Fenrir wasn't stupid. He knew that the attack was compromised the moment Heath allowed himself to be captured, but he didn't find it necessary to warn the Wizards of that fact. He had promised them that the werewolves would follow them momentarily, and once they had gone, he had erected the wards and trapped the Rogues on the outside. If the Ministry took care of the Rogues then it saved him a lot of trouble in the long run. He would just have to find a more creative way to get what he wanted. It wasn't like having those stupid Wizards around was doing him any good anyway.

The raid in itself was an embarrassment. The ten Rogues that had arrived were all new recruits, none of them particularly experienced and most of them spineless cowards. When Arthur pointed his wand at one of them, the man actually dropped his own wand in fright. They were used to following behind Voldemort's elite, used to knowing that Harry Potter was no longer around to protect the rest of the weak, which made them the strong ones in comparison. But now they were weak, and they knew it, and it made them scared. The attack was over in under a quarter of an hour. Only three Wizards were anyway capable of defending themselves from the Aurors.

As they were rounded up, one screamed, "he's a Death Eater, he's a Death Eater too," while pointing at Lucius. Arthur, while he resented the fact that the Malfoys were barely punished, trusted Harry's judgement. Instead of saying what he really wanted to say, he shrugged lightly and said, "He was pardoned."

"Which is more than we can say for you," Minerva added, her eyes narrowed. "I remember you!" She said suddenly. "You were terrible at Transfiguration."

Kingsley suppressed a chuckle. "We're taking them to the Ministry now. Could you please send the children over? We need to ask them a few questions." With that the team of Aurors manhandled the Rogues outside and Portkeyed them away. Those who remained behind Obliviated the Muggles that might have seen anything, and apparated themselves back to Hogsmeade. Madame Rosmerta was only too happy to allow them to use her fireplace to get back to Hogwarts.

Harry was sleeping when the house elf popped into the room. The noise startled Teddy, who began to cry. Incidentally his crying woke Harry up, but the house elf began to hit its head on the floor anyway.

"Stop it," Harry ordered. He rolled from the bed, muttering to himself angrily, and lifted Teddy from the cot. "Hey little man. It's ok. Why are you crying?"

"Harry?" Draco asked sleepily, looking at his mate through one eye as the other half of his face was buried in his pillow.

"Go back to sleep, Dray."

"Master Harry sir, yous is needing to go to the Headmistress. Yous is being needed at the Ministry, sir." The house elf popped away, silently this time, and Harry glared after the creature.

"Here we go," he said softly, laying Teddy down. "You lie down next to Draco ok? I'll be back very soon I promise." Teddy gave a small sob, his fingers gripping Harry's t-shirt tightly. "Draco will take care of you, baby. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Of course I will," the Veela murmured. Draco's arm came out, wrapping around Teddy's waist and pulling the boy against his chest. Teddy turned to cling to Draco, his face pressed against the blond's naked chest as he let out a sniffle.

"Bad things, daddy," the child whispered. He said something else, but Harry couldn't understand him. As advanced as Teddy was for his age, he was still only fourteen months old, and as such most of the time he only spoke gibberish.

"Nothing bad will happen, love. Let Draco care for you ok?" When no answer was forthcoming, Harry slipped from the room. "Hello Lucius."

The blond man was rubbing his face tiredly, making his way to his own room when Harry noticed him. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He asked with a frown.

"I was. Apparently I'm wanted at the Ministry."

"Ah," his frown deepened as he spoke, "we caught the remaining Rogues. They probably want to know if you ever saw any of them."

"Yes," Harry said sarcastically. "Because I'm the _only_ person who has ever been attacked by a Death Eater."

_XXX_

June 30th 1998.

As it turned out two of those Rogues had been there when Andromeda was killed. Another of them Harry had watched Voldemort torture in a vision months ago, and two more had been the ones to capture him and his friends in the forest before taking them to Malfoy Manor. That proved that five of those men were Death Eaters before Voldemort's defeat, and they were not being framed, nor did they join Greyback afterwards for revenge of some kind.

It was very early the next morning when Harry was allowed to return to Hogwarts. He stumbled out of the floo in the Headmistress office, a yawn slipping from his mouth as he managed to catch himself and not fall. "Morning," he told Minerva.

"Go back to sleep, child," she told him softly.

"I'm going to sleep in Gryffindor Tower tonight, ok? It's closer than the Malfoys' rooms."

"Very well Harry. I'll have a portrait let them know later this morning." She smiled as he slipped from the room. The poor boy looked dead on his feet.

Harry barely made it up all of those stairs. When he was finally in front of the portrait of the fat lady he knocked lightly, one hand on the wall to keep himself from falling over. One of her eyes creaked open. She caught sight of his scar and opened wide, without asking for a password.

Harry was so tried he had to climb up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. They had kept the same dorm since first year. Every new batch of first years got the old seventh year dorm, which meant that come September this room would belong to a new bunch of little Wizards. Harry smiled softly to himself at the thought. At least they would be safe and happy here, like he had once been, without having to worry about Voldemort. Harry looked at his bed, thinking back on the first time he had seen it, feeling the same thrill of pleasure and happiness surge through him at the thought that it was his! His! And he no longer had to sleep on a mattress in the cupboard under the stairs.

It had been a while since he had slept in that bed, and he admitted to himself that he had missed it last year. He grabbed the hangings, which were closed around the bed, then pulled them back – and screamed.

Ron and Seamus shot awake instantly. Dean groaned, rolled over, and finally sat up. Neville was sleeping in a room with his grandmother so he wasn't there to see what the others saw. Some how, without any of the teenagers noticing, George had snuck into Harry's bed. In the bed beside the window, in between Ron's bed and Neville's empty one lay the remaining Weasley twin.

There was a small smile on his pale face and he was completely naked. But that wasn't the first thing Harry noticed. No, the _only_ thing Harry noticed was that George's wrists were slit, and they were bleeding all over the crimson red sheets.

_XXX_

July 2nd 1998.

St Mungos was relatively quiet. Every one sat around in hard plastic chairs, glancing uneasily at one another, staying silent out of fear and respect and worry. No matter how many times Mrs Weasley had insisted that her son wasn't ill, the Healers had insisted on putting him in the Mental Trauma ward. As far as most people were concerned, being in the Trauma ward meant that the next step was shipping you off to the Hopeless Cases ward, where all of the loonies went.

For the two days George had been unconscious, Harry, Hermione and the Weasley family had flooed back and forth from Hogwarts or the Burrow or Shell Cottage. Draco had followed Harry back to St Mungos the day before. Neither of them had left since then.

The elder Weasleys sat stiffly, side by side, clutching each other's hands. Bill and Charlie stood beside their parents, Bill holding Fleur who hadn't stopped crying since they arrived, but who was so obviously pregnant that no one could keep their congratulations to themselves. Draco stared at her stomach enviously, before his eyes strayed to his mate and he felt guilty for thinking of creating a new life when one of Harry's friends could very well be losing his. Ginny sat sullenly in the corner by herself. Percy, Penelope and Hermione sat together, biting their lips and wringing their hands. Draco sat in Harry's lap, his head resting on the boy's shoulder tiredly. Ron sat beside them, throwing Harry exasperated looks, while they all tried to ignore Ginny's glaring.

A Healer stepped out of George's room and into the corridor. "He's asking to see Harry Potter." Draco slid from his lap, allowing him to stand up. Draco sat back down in Harry's vacated seat, glancing uneasily around as his mate walked into the room. "Mr. Malfoy?" Draco looked at the Healer. "He wants you to go in as well."

"That's not fair!" Ginny screeched, jumping out of her seat. She had a finger pointed at Draco and she was trembling with anger. "That's not fair!" Inside of the room, George heard her and gave a snort. "It's his fault! It's all Malfoy's fault, but he's allowed to go in there when we aren't? We're family!"

"I'm sorry, miss, but the patient is asking to see Harry and Draco and I have to do as my patient asks me." He frowned. "Now please calm down or I'm going to have to evict you from the hospital."

"This is my fault?" Draco asked quietly as he closed the door behind himself.

George chuckled lightly. He reached out, grabbing Harry's hand in his own and pulling the brunette down to sit on the edge of the bed. "No. Ginny just doesn't like you being with Harry. She thinks Harry and I are fighting because of you. She thinks the idea of Harry loving you was enough to make me want to die."

"And is it?" Harry asked, his voice harsh.

"No," he said softly.

"What is enough to make you want to die, George?"

George didn't answer the question. "She blames Draco. Do you know whom I blame? I blame Harry." Draco growled, the Veela within him desperately wanting to defend his mate, to protect his mate from the redhead. "It is all Harry's fault you know, for being kind and funny and absolutely gorgeous. How was I expected to not love him?"

"You said you didn't love me." Harry sounded faint. His face was pale, and Draco placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing him lightly.

"I don't. I think I love the idea of you more than anything." He looked at the wall, frowning. "I miss him. Do you miss him?"

"Yes," Harry answered immediately.

The second the word was out of Harry's mouth, George started to cry. It started lightly at first, his shoulders just barely shook, his chest rose and fell just a little bit faster than normal and he scarcely made any noise. Harry reached out to him, pulling him up against the brunette, and hugged him. George's sobs came harder now, faster and more furious. He cried loudly, clutching at Harry's back and hair, his tears dampening Harry's neck. Draco watched them; he managed to reign in his jealousy and his hand remained on Harry's shoulder comfortingly.

"I miss him so much, Harry," George sobbed. "It's like he was a part of me and now he's gone and I'm missing a part of my soul. Do you understand?"

Harry didn't quite know what to say. He understood. Except for him it was the other way around. All of his life he had only been half complete, and the moment he bonded with Draco he had realized that fact. Being with Draco, inside Draco and a part of Draco completed his soul.

"I feel like I only have half a soul." George whispered brokenly.

Harry said the only thing he could think of. "You can have Voldemort's if you want?"

George offered him a watery smile, "no thanks."

"It was worth a try." Harry said sullenly, earning himself a small laugh from the still crying redhead.

Outside the hospital room, Ginny glared mutinously at the door. She couldn't believe that little Death Eater was allowed in there but George's own family wasn't. And why was Harry in there? He and George had never been closer than Harry and any of the other brothers. Why was George suddenly interested in Harry now?

She strained her ears, having moved to a chair closer to the door, and tried to listen. She heard George say, "How was I expected to not love him?" and she didn't wait to see what Harry or Draco had to say in reply. How dare George fall in love with her Harry? Hers! Harry had always been hers.

She grabbed hold of the door handle, and pulled. Instead of opening, the door stayed firmly locked and the protection spells that were upon the door portkeyed her out of St Mungos, evicting her like the Healer had warned.

She screamed angrily as she landed in a pile outside. "How dare they?" She hissed to herself, standing up. "Harry is mine. Harry loved me first. How dare they all come along and try to take him from me? Malfoy claims he's a Veela and Harry jumps at the change to be his mate!" She kicked the wall angrily. "George decides he loves Harry too. My own brother is trying to steal my boyfriend! How fucked up!"

From the other side of the road Fenrir Greyback watched the girl with amusement. Oh he recognized her all right. She was Potter's last girlfriend, and she was a feisty little thing. He smirked as she punched the wall, muttering about how she wished it were 'Malfoy's face'. He could hear her clearly, even with the distance, and he thanked the sensitive hearing of his wolf and she claimed she'd kill to get Harry back.

He apparated over behind her, not really caring if a Muggle saw him. One arm was around her neck, and the other around her hips, pulling her back and pinning her against him. "Hello pretty one. Fancy meeting someone like you here, all alone."

"Get off of me!" She screamed, but no one was around that late at night to hear her.

"Now don't be like that." He cooed into her ear. "We're going to spend some time together." His hand moved down her thigh, squeezing the muscle lightly before his fingers drifted back up the inside of her leg, underneath her skirt. "To get to know one another, and all that rot." He told her with a leer, his hand cupping her through her underwear. "It's going to be fun, I promise."

"HELP!" She screamed again, "don't touch me! HELP!"

"Now, now, don't be like that, pretty. If you play nice with me, I'll help you get Potter as a mate. How does that sound?" The hand around her neck moved down to cup one of her breasts and she choked back a sob as he squeezed harshly.

"Harry?" She asked softly, trying not to cry.

"Yes, you'd like that wouldn't you?" He murmured, his hands still moving on her, in her. "Give me what I want, girl, and I'll give you what you want."

"W-What do you want?" She asked, flinching away as his cold hand moved under her shirt and unclipped her bra.

"Do you think Harry will come for you?" He asked softly, trying not to laugh.

"O-Of course." She tried to sound completely sure of herself, but she didn't quite manage it. While she knew that Harry loved her, he'd probably stay with the rest of her family in the Hospital. What if they all thought she'd gone back to Hogwarts and none of them thought to check on her? "He'll come for me."

"Oh I hope not," he growled, "that would spoil all the fun I was planning on having with you." He chuckled cruelly as he apparated them away. Ginny's scream echoed down the empty street but, again, no one heard it.

No one would notice she was missing for two days.

That was plenty of time for Greyback to have his _fun_ with her.

**XXX**

**1** – the Auror from chapter one, who came as Lucius' chaperone and witnessed Draco's inheritance was called Auror Banks. I thought he could crop up again and be in an awkward situation. Mwahaha!

* * *

Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed the chapter. A review would be nice, especially considering there are only 2 more chapters to go.


	12. Seen It Coming

There is a new poll up at my Live Journal (k155_me) that I would appreciate you voting on.

I am a bad person. When I get close to completing a fiction, I find I can't work on any of my other ones. I can only start new ones, or complete this one – it'd be best if I completed this one first, right?

* * *

**Words: ** 5,197

**Chapter 12**

**(Should Have) Seen It Coming**

July 4th 1998.

The eyed the building with distaste. A sneer formed on his lips as he thought about the people who lived within the manor before him. The building itself was beautiful, it actually reminded Tom a little of Malfoy Manor, but less magical so he knew it couldn't really compare. Abraxas would probably be highly offended to have his ancestral home compared to that of a _Muggle_. Tom narrowed his eyes in thought. He had planned it all out in his head, calculating the possible risks and outcomes and weighing them against the benefits.

It had started with a book. He had been reading, which was nothing unusual because Tom Riddle was usually found in the company of books, or fawning Slytherins. Though he preferred the books. It had been a relatively small passage; just two lines in total, and the one word in particular had jumped out at him.

'Horcrux'.

Professor Slughorn had been most helpful in providing the information Tom needed to carry out his plan. He would make a Horcrux: he would make several, and he would start tonight.

He had always been afraid of death. It was not so much the pain of dying he feared, but that in death he would cease to exist. He would be forgotten and unimportant, no longer special as he had always viewed himself to be. It was a humbling thought, and Lord Voldemort so hated to be humble.

He approached the gate, slowly walking down the gravel driveway, his wand in one hand and a small black diary in the other. He had begun writing the diary at the start of his sixth year, the school year just finished. He planned to use it for something, at the time he knew not what, but it was an instinctual thought, a presence pushing on his mind to be prepared for any opportunity that may arise. So he had written in the diary, and into it he poured his malice, his cruelty and his desire to dominate all life.**1** He had been shocked how simply it was, snuffing out a life. When that Mudblood Myrtle died, though he had not been the one to strike the final killing blow, he had expected to feel something more.

As a child, he had happily tortured and killed many animals, though none of them snakes, and he had felt nothing but pleasure. But were humans not more important than animals in the long run? Should he not have felt something at the death of a fellow human? Perhaps, he thought, it was because she was a Mudblood. She was barely human herself.

It was that thought that led him to his currant plan. If a Mudblood did not deserve to live, then neither did a Muggle. Especially not his filthy Muggle father who had abandoned his mother and himself, his father who had left him at that wretched orphanage. Tom smirked. Tonight, Tom Riddle Sr. would finally pay for all of his misdeeds. Lord Voldemort was not one to be forsaken.

He raised his hand, and knocked upon the door.

His father was the one to answer. He flinched back as if struck, shocked by the sight of a sixteen-year-old who looked just like him. "Who are you?" He gasped.

With a malicious smile, Tom answered him. "Your son. Can I come in?"

He looked around at them all, a frown on his face. It had been too easy. Each of them had died by the Killing Curse, which Tom had found he was rather good at casting. It was strange, in a way, that at one moment each of the Muggles had been alive, and now they were not. But their essence lived on. Tom had drawn it away from their corpses, before they could pass on, and he had forced it into the diary, giving his Horcrux power. Then, he had completed the ritual, tearing away a piece of his soul and casting it into the diary as well.

The small, unassuming, book lay upon the floor at his feet. It almost seemed to vibrate with power, humming lightly, its magic swirling around trying to reach out and touch its original host. Lord Voldemort threw his head back and laughed. It had been successful.

Now, all he had to do was blame his _uncle_ for the Muggles' deaths.

Harry watched everything silently, not moving once to intervene but nor did he turn away. Eyes narrowed, his mouth set into a frown, he watched the Dark Lord kill people using Harry's own body. Harry's tongue forming the words 'Avada Kedavra', Harry's voice calling it out loud as Harry's wand shot forth the poisonous green light. Tom did not seem to realize that it was Harry's body he was using, and Harry was not inclined to tell him.

Footsteps sounded, and Harry turned towards them, his crimson eyes landing on someone very familiar to him. "Ginny?" He asked softly, his voice lisping, sibilant.

"Riddle?" She called softly to him. "Is that you?"

"I am Lord Voldemort," Harry said, waving his wand so that the words formed in the air. Ginny paled, her hair damp and limp and she looked eleven-years-old. She looked as she did when Harry found her in the Chamber of Secrets.

"I want to help you, Riddle." She whispered, reaching out towards him.

"Traitor," Harry hissed.

"Follower," Tom breathed. Ginny just smiled at them both.

_XXX_

July 5th 1998.

Harry gasped, his eyes snapping open. He looked around frantically, searching the corridor for familiar faces. The Weasleys sat around, like they had done since the end of June, some of them sleeping and others still crying softly. Draco sat back in his chair, Harry's head had been resting on his shoulder, but despite the fact that Harry jumped awake Draco remained asleep. His mother sat by his side, with Teddy in her lap; both of them were awake and silent. She had arrived the night before, claiming that Teddy missed Harry, and that she wanted to offer her support for the Weasley family.

He didn't see Ginny anywhere. But then that was hardly surprising. Ron had nervously told him that she had been portkeyed out of the hospital by the wards for trying to get into George's room uninvited. It was possible that she was just really annoyed with Harry, Draco and George and was off sulking at Hogwarts. Or maybe she had even gone back to the Burrow alone. No one had really thought to check.

"Arthur," Harry said softly.

Mr. Weasley turned his head away from glaring at Lucius, who was feigning sleep, and smiled warmly at Harry. "Yes, my boy?"

"I was wondering if you'd check at the Burrow? I have a bad feeling about Ginny."

Arthur's face paled drastically, and he stood up from his chair. "Molly," he whispered, waking his sleeping wife.

"Is it time to go?" She asked immediately.

"No, no, I just have to pop out for a bit. I'll be back soon, ok?" She nodded her head slowly, her eyes already closing.

Harry watched her with a frown. She had refused to go home at any point in George's stay at St Mungos, even when Arthur and some of the others had, and she was exhausted. Harry sighed. The war was over, for everyone other than him, and yet his family was still suffering the war's effects. They probably would be for some time.

"I'm sure she is fine, Harry." Narcissa said softly, a kind smile on her face. She held Teddy out to Harry, and the teenager took him gratefully. "He's missed you."

"I'm sorry you keep having to mind him all the time. I mean, he's my responsibility and I'm hardly ever with him."

"Nonsense," Narcissa said at once, "he's family. Just like you are. Family takes care of each other, child."

Draco stirred against him, yawning, his eyes still closed. "Morning," he mumbled, turning to bury his face against Harry's neck.

A Healer came around the corner of the hallway, smiling at the group. "Hello everyone," he said cheerily. He then realized that most of the people were still asleep, and with a sheepish look on his face he apologized. "Sorry, sorry, very sorry."

"It's fine," Molly said, giving a stretch as she sat up straighter. "Can we take him home now?"

"George doesn't want to go to the Burrow, Mrs Weasley." Harry said quietly. For the past few days, George only seemed to want to talk to Harry. But, to Draco's relief, he seemed to have gotten over his crush-slash-obsession. "He wants to go back to Hogwarts, but he didn't say anything cause he didn't think you'd let him."

Molly's mouth opened and closed for a moment and she frowned. "Well he is an adult. You'll mind him won't you, Harry?" The brunette gave a curt nod, his eyes flicking to Ron and Hermione who both nodded to him. "Then, Healer, can he go to Hogwarts now?"

"Yes, I believe he can."

_XXX_

July 5th 1998. Later that morning.

Ginny trembled harshly in the early morning chill. She was only wearing her underwear and her outer robe. The rest of her clothes had been destroyed when she was turned. The full moon was generally the only time when werewolves can turn others, but Fenrir Greyback was just an ordinary werewolf. He was a Pureblooded wolf, born from two werewolf parents, rather than turned. Those types of wolves were very rare, and practically forgotten about by wizard kind. It was because of this fact that Ginny now found herself to be a werewolf as well.

Ignoring the way Greyback had behaved towards her when she had been captured first, he didn't touch her again until he had bitten her. The rest of his pack had attacked her, testing her Greyback called it, trying to determine her position in their hierarchy. But she didn't want to be a part of their pack. She only wanted Harry, and Fenrir knew that.

With a smirk, the wolf Alpha watched as the redheaded girl walked away from them. When she was far enough away from the rest of the pack, Fenrir smirked as she apparated.

She would succeed. She had better. And then Fenrir would get his cub back.

Ginny apparated into Hogsmeade. She looked around warily, eyeing the small handful of people who were out and about at that time. Keeping her head down, her eyes on the floor, she all but ran towards Hogwarts. She didn't know what she'd tell them when she arrived, but she was sure she would think of something. They would accept her back either way she was sure, after all she was family. If they could accept Remus Lupin who wasn't even related to them, she'd definitely be allowed to stay at Hogwarts.

She walked into the infirmary, a small smile on her face as she heard a familiar voice. "Harry!" She shouted, running at the stunned young man and throwing herself into his arms.

The others who had been at St. Mungos watched the redhead with worry, or curiosity, or in Draco's case annoyance. George was lying on one of the beds, Teddy sitting on his stomach and Draco by his side. The elder Malfoys stood off to one corner, Hermione standing beside them while the rest of the Weasleys ran towards Ginny and Harry.

"What happened to you!?" Molly cried, pulling her daughter away from Harry and into her own embrace. "Oh my dear!"

Arthur, who had arrived shortly before Ginny, scowled at his daughter. "Where have you been? I looked all around Ottery St Catchpole for you!"

She let out a sniffle, rubbing her face on her sleeve. But she didn't speak.

Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes, taking a step towards the girl. There was a bite on her neck, visible about the neckline of the robe she wore, and it seemed very familiar to the Medi-Witch. With a gasp, she realized it was very like the bite Lavender Brown received in the final battle, and the scar Remus used to have on his thigh. "You've been bitten by a werewolf," the woman said slowly, her hand moving to clutch at her chest.

Molly and the rest of the family drew back with identical gasps. "But it doesn't matter," Ginny cried, "I'm still me!"

"You can't stay here." Professor McGonagall walked into the room. The portraits had alerted her to a new arrival, and a suspicious looking one at that. Ginny did look rather suspicious, half dressed and with her hair messed, and covered in cuts and bruises. "Werewolves are no longer allowed within school property. Hogwarts is a sanctuary at present. All werewolves are to be sent to the Ministry for questioning, and then either sent to Azkaban or relocated."

"Oh Minerva!" Molly cried, "can't she stay? She won't hurt anyone, will you dear?"

"Of course not!" Ginny gasped, but her eyes flicked to Draco and narrowed. The blood sneered back. He may have been terrified of Greyback, but it wasn't because he was afraid of being turned. A Veela, or any other type of creature, could not be turned into another one. Greyback had just scared him, because as a submissive Draco had felt compelled to follow the Alpha's orders and whims. Without his own dominant around to protect him, Draco had been twice as vulnerable to Fenrir's vicious nature.

"Regardless Molly, we have no one to brew the Potion anymore." She did seem genuinely upset at having to refuse Ginny, but there was nothing she could do.

Draco watched the Weasleys all look at one another sadly. Molly was crying again, as was Fleur and Hermione. Ron looked angry, but Draco thought amusedly, that was nothing new. Harry, however, looked tortured. Harry was angry with her, no doubt, but he had never wanted something like this to happen. Harry wanted to help her, and he would have offered to brew the Potion for her, but it would probably kill her rather than do her any help.

"I'll do it." Draco said, his eyes never leaving his mate's face. "I'll brew her the Wolfsbane Potion." The smile Harry gave him made it easy to ignore everyone else's stares and shocked exclamations. Harry smiling made it worthwhile, even though he'd like nothing more than to help throw the Weaselette out on her arse.

_XXX_

What was left of the Order gathered around Kingsley, they huddled around the current Minister, whispering softly to one another, waiting.

"Ready?"

"Be careful."

"I'm always careful. You be careful."

"Stuff it, Dodge."

They bantered back and forth. Kingsley rolled his eyes, watching them argue with a fond smile on his face. Arthur and Lucius had joined them, but both men stayed silent, walking side by side with their wands drawn, (Lucius of course had to use his second, illegal wand, but Kingsley let it pass without comment).

"This is it," someone said with a grin.

"We got the bastards!"

"Reducto!" Kingsley shouted, the light shooting out of his wand and blasting the door out of the way. The Aurors and Wizards entered the building, a curse leaving each of their lips as they noticed the cloaked figures waiting by the walls.

"That was too easy." Lucius muttered, moving to unmask one of the unconscious werewolves. The blond gasped, looking at the face of the man he held. The man's mouth was bound by duct tape, his eyes were gouged out so he couldn't see to run away, and when Lucius undid the man's robes he found several large bite marks across the man's stomach and legs.

"Muggles," Arthur moaned. "They aren't werewolves at all."

Some had already been dead, held up by rope, tied around their necks and waists, unseen by the Order members. Others had been spelled in place, still barely alive and unable to defend themselves.

"The clever fucker!" Kingsley cursed harshly. The black Auror wasn't one to swear, but in times like these, polite exclamations didn't make anyone feel any better.

"What's that noise?" Arthur asked, cocking his head to listen to the soft 'tick, tock, tick' noise.

"It's coming from that," someone whispered, pointing at a small black box. Arthur looked at the box, the red and black and silver wires coming out of it, and then the small digital clock that was counting down from 'seven, six, five…'

"Get out of here!" He shouted. He didn't remember its name, but he knew what it did. "Get out now!" Arthur screamed again, already running for the door. Some of them just apparated outside, others ran after their friend. Everyone made it outside before the bomb exploded.

The ground shook with the force of the explosion. Part of the house flew over their heads, missing them as they were protected by several strong Protego spells. The house on either side of the one that exploded caught fire, the flames rising higher and higher in a matter of seconds. Muggles came running out of both houses, screaming and shouting. With a wave of his wand, Kingsley turned his companions and himself invisible to the Muggles, this Disillusion charm holding until the Unspeakables arrived to fix the mess Greyback had caused.

He turned to glare at Dung Fletcher. "The next time you get a hot tip from one of your contacts," he hissed, and everyone else turned to glare at the Wizard being chastised, "keep it to yourself."

_XXX_

July 7th 1998.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Narcissa asked. Her and Lucius were heading into Diagon Alley, along with an Auror escort just to be on the safe side. Harry shook his head at her, smiling.

"Nah, I'm going to finally listen to Lucius and study something." The blond man chuckled lightly, and took his wife's arm. "See you later!" Harry called as Lucius led Narcissa from the room.

"Are they gone?" Draco asked, walking out of their bedroom with Teddy in his arms.

"Yeah." Draco raised an eyebrow, smirking. The brunette just shook his head, "don't even think about it."

"Come on, you prude." He walked back into the bedroom, and lay Teddy down on the bed. "You have a nice nap, ok Teddy Bear. Give us a shout when you wake up." The boy rolled over, yawning, and was asleep in seconds. Draco walked back out of the room, and sat next to Harry on the couch.

"What are the ingredients needed in the Polyjuice Potion?" Harry asked the second Draco was seated.

"Well, you're taking this seriously, aren't you?" The blond laughed before answering the question correctly. "In which Potion is Monkswood most usually included?"

They went on for an hour and a half. Harry had opened his mouth to answer his latest question when they were interrupted by a knock on the door. "I'll get it," the brunette said, standing up. He walked to the door, and pulled it open. "Hello," his eyes widened and he took a small step back.

He hadn't seen Ginny since she came back to Hogwarts, not until now. It was the first time she had sought him out in anyway, and Harry was surprised that she had come straight to the Malfoys room. She had been healed, Harry noticed, and now that she was actually wearing decent clothing she didn't look half as bad as she did the last time he had seen her. Though, she was flushed and panting, her eyes wide and worried.

"What's the matter?" He asked, reaching out to her.

"You have to come," she said as she grabbed his arm. "Come quickly. George!" She panted, trying to drag Harry from the room. "George tried to kill himself again!" Harry moved forward quickly, reaching out to grab her shoulders. "We don't know what to do." Harry didn't hear that though because he had already taken off running.

Draco listened to the voices, but he didn't really hear what they were saying. When Harry didn't come back inside, he stood up and made his way to the door. Ginny stood there alone, crying. "What happened, Weaselette?" He asked harshly, narrowing his eyes.

"George tried to kill himself again," she sobbed, her arms wrapped around herself. "Harry said it was his fault. I tried to tell him it wasn't but he wouldn't listen. He ran off, and I'm so afraid he might to something stupid."

Draco looked away from her, staring down the corridor. He needed to go to Harry; he knew as well as anyone that Harry would be blaming himself. His worry for his mate overrode the Veela's natural instinct to protect the child in the room. He pulled the portrait shut and ran, ignoring Ginny calling after him.

If he had looked back, he would have seen the smirk on the red heads face. She had her wand in the threshold of the portrait, stopping it from closing completely. She pushed it wide open and walked inside. "Teddy?" She called softly. "It's aunty Ginny. Come here baby?"

She searched through the rooms, hurriedly, having no doubt that Draco would come back before Harry. Harry would be back too of course, and he would be very angry with her when he realized she had lied about George. But really, she reasoned, it was for his own good. She was doing this for Harry, for them.

She walked into Draco's bedroom, sneering as she looked at the one bed. The bed Malfoy shared with her Harry. Teddy lay on it, eyes wide and green as he stared at her. "Come here, love?" She held her arms out to him but he didn't move. She moved to pick him up, but a stinging hex caught her arm and she cried out, moving away from the bed.

Draco had gotten to the end of the hallway before he remembered Teddy. He wasn't even sure if he closed the portrait behind himself. Teddy was more important than Harry at that moment, because Teddy couldn't defend himself. He should have brought the child with him. He didn't think Ginny would hurt the baby, but he'd rather be safe than sorry. There was something about the Weasley girl that he didn't trust. He didn't trust her around Harry, for definite, and he wouldn't trust her with Teddy either.

When he got back to the rooms the portrait was wide open, and so was the door to his parent's bedroom. He frowned, silently walking inside. He held his wand out in front of himself, almost growling as he saw Ginny moving towards Teddy. Teddy met his eyes over her shoulder, wide and afraid, and Draco's heart clenched for him. He cast a stinging hex and Ginny shrieked, leaping towards the wall.

Teddy stood, and crawled to the end of the bed. Draco grabbed him, holding him with one arm. His other arm held the wand on Ginny as he backed out of the room. He was almost to the portrait when Ginny screamed at him. "I hate you! He should have been mine!" She flourished her wand at him, casting, "Sectumsempra!"

Draco's mind froze. He couldn't think of anything to cast in reply. It was too much like the time Harry cursed him in the girl's toilets. He couldn't breath. Running on instinct, he turned his body away, trying to protect Teddy.

"PROTEGO!" Lucius roared. The light shot past Draco, hovering in front of him and forming a shield that reflected Ginny's spell. She ducked out of its way but wasn't quick enough to dodge Lucius' stunner. "Draco, are you ok?" He reached out for his son, but the boy flinched away, clinging tighter to Teddy.

"It's ok, baby, it's us! It's ok!" Narcissa cooed, pulling her only child against her chest.

Draco looked up, hearing footsteps, in time to see Harry burst into the room. "The bitch lied to me!" He hissed. His eyes widened as he looked around. "What just happened?"

_XXX_

July 8th 1998.

They were sitting in the Headmistresses office, waiting. Ginny was bound to one of the chairs, and Harry and the Malfoys either sat or paced, unrestrained. Molly stood beside her daughter, sobbing again.

"It's a good thing Lucius and Narcissa came back early." Minerva said. "Or you would be on your way to Azkaban." Molly cried harder.

Apparently the Auror who was escorting the elder Malfoys to Diagon Alley was summoned for a meeting he had forgotten about, and the Malfoys didn't feel up to shopping on their own, especially considering the dirty looks and glares they were receiving with the Auror present.

"I wish to know why you did what you did?"

"He said I could have Harry." Ginny whispered, her eyes flicking to stare at the boy in question. Draco tightened his grip on Harry's hand, snarling at her. Teddy was outside with Ron and Hermione. George, Neville and Luna waited outside with them as well.

"Who said, child?" The Headmistress asked with a frown.

"Greyback. He said if I brought Teddy to him, then I could have Harry. He promised he'd help me get Harry."

"Why does he want Teddy?"

"Teddy is his cub, apparently. He said just because Remus wouldn't stay with him didn't mean he was letting humans raise his cub." She paused, "it was why he killed Mrs Tonks."

"Why do you want Harry?" Narcissa asked, "He is Draco's mate."

"He's MINE! He was mine first. I had him first and I love him more than Malfoy does. Harry and I never fought like they did. We never hated each other. And Harry loves me too. He should be with me."

"My dear child, I'm afraid I have no choice but to expel you from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Molly, if you could please bring her back to your home." The red headed woman pulled her daughter up from the chair, Ginny still magically restrained, and led her to the door. "I will leave it to you to decide whether or not to contact the Aurors about her condition."

They left. As the door opened, the others walked inside uninvited. George held up a ear, on a piece of string and grinned at Harry. Hermione scowled at him, "I told him not to eavesdrop," she said, "but he wouldn't listen to me."

"You should have seen that coming, mate." George gave Harry a nudge. The brunette just looked at him in confusion. "Oh come on, Ginny has been obsessed with you for years! If there were a chance she could have gotten you for herself she'd jump on it. Even if she had to hurt someone else in the process."

Harry reached out for his godson, hugging the boy tightly as Luna draped an arm around his shoulders. She looked left and right and smiled, "the Wrakspurts are no longer around, Harry. In a weeks time, the Hagglebalums will be defeated, and he'll be safe."

"Thanks, Luna." Harry smiled warmly at her.

Ron looked around at everyone present, but they all shrugged at him. Hermione scowled, "oh don't look at me. I haven't a clue what she's talking about!"

"Mental, that one." He nodded at Hermione's back, who had stormed from the room in a huff. Harry looked around at his friends and just laughed. He reached over to take Draco's hand in his own, and he let out a deep breath. If Luna was to be believed, he would just have to wait a week from now and Greyback would no longer be a threat.

_XXX_

July 16th 1998.

The statue of Lily and James and Harry watched over them as they fought. When Kingsley took a chance to look upon the golden statue it seemed, for a moment, as if James was grinning at him, cheering him on. He smiled, before flicking his wand harshly, his curse sending a werewolf flying across the courtyard.

Other Order members fought as well, each of them crying out spells and hexes, ducking out from under the werewolves' spells. The werewolves that had once been Muggle charged at their targets, magicless, they were easier to defeat. The battle had been going on since the early morning, but they had underestimated the number of werewolves left uncaptured. Either that, or Greyback had been busy since Voldemort's defeat.

Lucius gave a scream as a Crucio hit him. He fell to the floor, writhing in pain, and Arthur took one look at the pain-filled face of his ex-enemy and sighed. While he would have once loved to leave Lucius there, he knew he couldn't. It would disappoint Harry greatly, and Arthur didn't think he'd be able to sleep at night if he just walked away. With a battle cry, he took a running leap at the werewolf cursing Lucius, and landed on its back. They fell to the ground, freeing Lucius from the spell, but Arthur ended up pinned to the ground. Suddenly, the werewolf dropped down on top of him, still and heavy, with blood pouring from a gash in the back of its neck. Lucius looked down at him, wand and eyebrow raised, a smirk on his lips. He nodded. It was the closet he would ever come to telling a Weasley 'thank you'.

They fought, and they screamed and they bled. And in the end, they conquered.

Many of the werewolves had been killed in the battle, but fortunately there was only one casualty on their own side. Greyback was the last to die, and with his death the remaining werewolves had laid down on the ground, whimpering in fear. Kingsley looked down on them, and frowned.

"Bring them into the Ministry." He ordered. He turned to look at the body of the wolf he had just killed and frowned. Harry would probably be annoyed that he wasn't there to witness Greyback's death, but he was sure the young man would get over it.

They left Godric's Hollow. The Witches and Wizard who had barricaded themselves into their homes the moment the Werewolves arrived in Bathilda Bagshot's old home, cautiously peered out from behind their curtains. Some of them frowned at each other and some smiled and waved at the Aurors as they walked away from Godric's Hollow.

Kingsley chuckled to himself. "What's so funny?" Arthur asked.

"When Lily and James were killed, a whole load of people wanted to buy a house here, especially after the statue went up. Now, Voldemort attacked Bathilda's home, fought Harry and Hermione here only months ago, and now Fenrir Greyback was killed beneath the Potter Memorial."

Arthur gave a small chuckle as well. "I'm sure there will be a queue of people wanting to buy Bathilda's home. Though it is in need of fixing up now."

Lucius rolled his eyes at both of them, walking past them, and apparating back to Hogsmeade. He couldn't wait to see how Harry reacted when he told them Greyback was dead. Now all they had to do was destroy the last Horcrux and Harry and Draco would finally be free to be with each other. Lucius smiled softly to himself. His family would finally be free.

**XXX**

**1**- Taken from the Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Rings. (Well, the movie at least).

* * *

I really want to write an HP/LotR crossover. But the problem with that is that I don't really know all that much about LotR except what information I have gathered from other fictions and the movies. I have the books; I just don't like them enough to read them (LotR is the only adaptation where I thought the film was better than the original book). So I was wondering, if anyone out there is brilliant/obsessed/knowledgeable about LotR would they mind being a beta and correcting any information I happen to get wrong? It's only going to be a one or two chaptered fiction - probably a long one shot - but still! Thanks.


	13. Happy Birthday, Harry

Just to let you all know, the POLL is closed, and Butterfly won. So when I complete The Lambs, I'll start the new LM/HP fiction.

Whoo hoo, the final chapter has come at last. Who out there hates me for ending yet another fiction. I find it terrible, that no matter how long I intend to make a fiction, they never exceed twenty chapters. Maybe The Lambs will be different, if I ever get around to finishing it.

* * *

**Words: **4,668

**Chapter 13**

**Happy Birthday, Harry!**

July 30th 1998.

Time had passed quickly since Greyback's death. The Wizarding World was a lot quieter now, and even Voldemort seemed to have stopped causing trouble. They were still not any closer to finding a way to destroy the Horcrux, and Harry knew Voldemort's passive behaviour wouldn't last much longer. His birthday would be arriving on the following day, and Harry had hoped to celebrate it in his own home surrounded by friends.

Hogwarts was finally restored to the way it had been before the battle, and many people had already left to return to their homes. Of course, Malfoy Manor was badly affected by the war, and Lucius was now investing a lot of time and money into rebuilding his ancestral home. Harry was sure the Malfoys would move back the moment reconstruction was completed, but he didn't know if he would be comfortable there. He was welcomed no doubt, but could he live in a place where Voldemort and several other Death Eaters had lived in and killed so many people in? The same building where he had been imprisoned, where Luna, and Dean, and Olivander had been tortured?

The Weasleys had gone back to the Burrow, though they had all promised to floo over for his birthday. Harry knew they wouldn't though. Draco thought it would be a surprise, but Harry had over heard him ask Mrs Weasley to throw Harry a birthday party at the Burrow. Ron would probably come over and force Harry through the floo with him. Bill and Fleur had gone back to Shell Cottage, and they had taken Ginny with them.

He missed having all of his friends in the castle, but he supposed they deserved to go home as well. Hermione had left by Portkey for Australia the week before, but she had owled him and promised to come back for his birthday. She had found her parents, she had told him, but was having some difficulty convincing them that they were British citizens and that she was their daughter. Apparently, her memory charm had been too good.

Neville had gone home with his Gran, and Luna and her father had gone travelling. She was sorry not to be able to attend his 'surprise' party, but she had given him his present early. She had held both of his hands together, and kissed his cheek, and whispered, "death is the next great adventure."

Harry didn't see the point in going to stay at Grimmauld Place. Malfoy Manor would be finished soon; especially at the rate Lucius was going. He didn't want to have to move back there, have to deal with all of those memories, only to turn around and leave again a week or so later. McGonagall had given him permission to stay on at Hogwarts, even though she was going home. Most of the Professors were leaving. Snape was staying though, apparently he did every year, and so was Hagrid.

Harry looked up from his Transfiguration textbook as the door opened. Teddy was already asleep in his cot, Narcissa and Lucius had retired as well, and it seemed that Draco was finally finished making plans for the party.

"Hello," Harry said with a smile. "What were you doing?"

"Nothing important," Draco answered evasively. He didn't know that Harry knew. He leant over the cot to kiss Teddy on the forehead, before moving to stand by Harry. "Did you miss me?"

"With every fibre of my being." Harry said with a smirk. He got a punch on the arm for his trouble. "Come on, I was being serious." He whined, rubbing his sore arm.

"Whatever." Draco grumbled, pulling his jumped off over his head. "I missed you."

Harry stood up, discarding his book, and took Draco into his arms. "Of course I missed you," he whispered. He pressed his lips to Draco's, his tongue brushing against the blond's closed lips. Draco parted them. Harry kissed him harder, pulling their bodies tight together, his hands on Draco's head and back holding him tightly as his tongue snaked forward, running against the length of Draco's tongue.

The blond moaned, his hands moving to unbutton his shirt. He pulled away from Harry just long enough to shrug his shirt to the ground, but then his mate pulled him back again, kissing him hungrily. Harry's hands moved up and down his back. With a moan, Draco felt his wings unfurl, flapping twice before they went still. Harry's fingers tangled in the pristine white feathers, stroking them and pulling on them light. The more he touched them the more Draco moaned, pressing closer to Harry, clinging to him desperately.

"Clothes off," Draco panted, as Harry's mouth left his.

Harry's hands went to the clasp of his robe. The moment it was unhooked, his scar flared painfully and he cried out. He wrenched himself away from Draco, sinking to his knees with both hands pressed to his forehead. "Don't touch me," he snarled as the Veela reached out to him. "Go to bed, Draco," Harry whispered when he finally looked up from the ground.

"But I thought we were-"

Harry cut him off with a glare. "No. Not until Voldemort is gone. I can't hurt you again, Dray." He reached out, his fingers lightly tracing the shape of Draco's face before his hands moved to cup Draco's throat. He squeezed lightly, remembering how Voldemort felt as Draco's breath caught beneath his hands. "I can't let him hurt you again."

Harry put his pyjamas on silently, keeping his face turned from Draco's. The wings disappeared as Draco pulled on a t-shirt. Without making a sound Draco crawled onto the bed, and tucked himself in beneath the sheets. "Harry? I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," the brunette replied. He sat in the bed beside Draco, and carried on reading his Transfiguration book.

Draco hesitantly shifted over, laying his head on Harry's shoulder. "How do you think we could kill V-Voldemort? I think we could draw him from your body, and make a new Horcrux. We can have him possess a cockroach or something. That would be fitting I think."

"He can't be a cockroach, Dray, we have to actually kill him."

"Yeah but he can be one for a little while. Then we can step on him."

"You can't destroy a Horcrux by stepping on it!"

"Can we cast the Killing Curse on it? The cockroach I mean, not your scar."

"If it was possible to make Voldemort a cockroach, then yes, you could use the Killing Curse on him." Harry chuckled lightly. He marked the page in his book and put it aside. "What if we pour some radioactive material on my head?"

"Radio-what?" Draco asked with a frown.

"Don't worry. How about plastic surgery, or laser treatment?"

"Sounds painful," the blond grumbled, instantly ruling it out.

"Probably wouldn't work anyway." He kissed Draco's forehead lightly, closing his eyes. "Let's go to sleep." They shifted down into the bed, so they were both lying instead of sitting. Draco lay curled against Harry, his arm over the brunette's chest, and one leg across both of Harry's. "Goodnight."

"Love you," the blond whispered, placing a kiss against Harry's clothed chest.

Harry watched him sleep for a while. He didn't notice when he fell asleep. It was an easy transition, one moment he was lying down watching Draco sleep, and then the next moment he was lying down watching Voldemort and Dumbledore duel.

A jet of green light streaked at Dumbledore, but he disappeared with a turn of his cloak. He reappeared a second later behind Voldemort and waved his wand. The rest of the statues in the fountain burst to life, springing their way forward towards the Dark Lord. The headless statue of the centaur, which had protected Harry earlier, now herded him away from the fight. Harry went easily, eyes wide as he watched the battle. He found himself copying the actions he had taken back in fifth year, he followed passively, allowing his body to move from memory and not instinct.

"It was foolish for you to come here tonight, Tom." Dumbledore said.

Voldemort cast a Killing Curse at Dumbledore, but it missed. Instead it hit the security guards desk, which burst into flames. "You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" Voldemort taunted as Dumbledore sent another non-fatal spell at him. "Above such brutality, are you?"

A long thin flame drew from the tip of Dumbledore's wand, curling around Voldemort like a fiery serpent, coiling and tightening as the man struggled. Voldemort disappeared. The snake dropped to the floor, rearing back furiously. Voldemort appeared above Dumbledore's head, perched on the plinth where the statues had once stood. When his next Killing Curse failed, he turned to Harry.

He felt his scar burst open, feeling the pain this time as well as remembering it from the time before. It made him curl up on himself, sure that he was dying though he knew he was not. Voldemort spoke, but it was Harry's jaw that moved, Harry's tongue that formed the words, and the pain of it was agonizing.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore," he said. "If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy."**1** Harry silently found himself begging for death, pleading for it, even. His memory-self curled in tighter on himself, wanting to die to escape the pain, wanting to die to see Sirius again. But Harry wanted to die so he wouldn't have to be a part of Voldemort anymore. He couldn't bear to share a body with that creature any longer, and he wanted desperately to find relief in death so he would no longer have to think of a way to kill himself.

He paused.

The pain retreated, and he repeated his last thought to himself. He was trying to find a way to kill himself.

Voldemort had to kill him.

Voldemort was a part of him.

_XXX_

July 31st 1998.

He woke up, a loud gasp issuing from his lips as he panted harshly. The memory of the torture Voldemort put him through was fresh in his mind as he peeled Draco off of him. He climbed from the bed, still in his pyjamas and cast 'Tempus'.

_12:02am, 31__st__ July_, it read.

He took a deep breath, finally knowing what it was he had to do. He knew what it was that he needed to do to finally defeat Voldemort. He would have thought he'd have been slightly more afraid, but he found his mind was calm, almost numb to the realization. He had known he would have to die, but he had only just figured out how. He should have been more torn up about it, but truthfully he was just glad that it was almost over.

He wrote out a quick note, and left it on his pillow. Draco at least deserved to know what happened to him.

He pulled the golden snitch out of his trunk, trying to be as quiet as possible. Then he left the room, and he walked through the portrait hole and made his way to the third floor corridor that he had snuck along in his first year. But this time, Hermione and Ron weren't with him. This time he was facing his destiny alone.

The way he was meant to.

He pushed open the door with a small smile. He had almost expected to see Fluffy guarding the trap door again. But of course the Cerberus wasn't there. Harry pulled open the trap door, and levitated himself down into the darkness. His feet touched the floor just as he cancelled the spell. The next door opened easily, there was no need for him to chase after a flying key this time, nor did he need to solve one of Professor Snape's riddles. The chessboard was still there, but all of the pieces were missing. Harry walked around it, just in case. He didn't have time to play chess right then, and he didn't want to risk accidentally bringing the pieces forward by walking across the board.

He opened the last door. And just like the last time, the Mirror of Erised stood against the far wall, the only object in the room. Harry practically ran down the stairs. The golden snitch was clasped in one hand and his wand dangled loosely from the other. He looked into the mirror—

—And Tom Riddle stared back at him.

Tom had a lightening bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, and he had eyes the same shade of green as Harry did. Voldemort raised his wand, pointing it silently at Harry's chest.

Harry squeezed the golden snitch, bringing it to his lips. He kissed it lightly and whispered, "I am going to die." The snitch broke into two pieces, both halves dropping to the floor as Harry scrambled to catch the ring as it fell forward. The Resurrection stone was just the way he remembered it. A heavy gold ring, with the black stone set on top, cracked down the middle and distorting the marking of the Deathly Hallows. He was tempted to use it, to just turn it over in his hand three times, and be able to see all of his family again. But he didn't.

His family were always with him, whether he could see them or not. They were there. And he would be seeing them soon enough anyway.

Harry slipped the ring onto his finger and looked back into the Mirror. Voldemort still had his wand raised, and Harry copied the motion, pointing his wand at the boy in the Mirror. "Happy birthday, Potter," Tom's mouth said, though Harry couldn't hear it.

"Avada Kedavra," Harry said in reply.

The green light shot forth from his wand, and struck the Mirror. It bounced back, and hit Harry in the forehead. Harry flew backwards, his mouth open, dead before he could scream. But, in the Mirror, Tom Riddle screamed and flailed, his hands clutching at his chest as the Horcrux within Harry was destroyed. A puff of black smoke rose from Harry's forehead, but he stared up at the ceiling, unseeing, his eyes wide and glassy.

In his bed, Draco jolted awake. He screamed, and it was a scream of someone who was so utterly tortured. His hands clutched at his chest, and he continued to scream. In his cot, Teddy awoke, startled from sleep, and he began to scream with Draco. Lucius and Narcissa burst into the room, wide-awake with fear, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night.

"What is it, what is it?" Lucius asked frantically, rushing to Draco, while Narcissa pulled Teddy into her embrace.

Draco just kept screaming. "Where is Harry?" Narcissa asked, and Draco gave a sob, tears running down his cheeks as he shook his head frantically. "Is Harry hurt?" She asked again. The wail Draco gave answered her question, and gave her the worst possible answer.

"No," Lucius gasped. He had spotted the note, and he read it quickly as Narcissa tried to sooth both of the crying boy's.

_**Dearest Draco, though I suppose you are dead now as well. **_

_**Fine, to everyone else: I'm sorry I had to die. You all know I was trying to destroy the final Horcrux, but none of you know what that was, bar myself, Dumbledore and Snape. I didn't want you all to worry, so I never told you. And for that I am sorry. I'm also so very sorry that I couldn't keep Draco safer. I'm sorry that so many people had to die for me, but I'm finally getting my comeuppance, I suppose. **_

_**You'll find me with the Mirror of Erised, where I first remember facing Voldemort and winning. I'll win again this time, but there will have been a higher price paid. **_

"Draco," Lucius asked softly. "Are you hurting?" He shook his head, finally silent though he still clutched at his chest. "He should be dead."

"Do you think Harry survived then?" Narcissa asked softly, her eyes closed to stave off her tears.

"I suppose I'll go find out."

Lucius went straight to Severus and forced the other man to go with him. Severus knew the way to the chamber that hid the Mirror and he warily led Lucius there. "Draco still lives?" The Potion Master asked softly, afraid of the answer.

"Yes."

"Then something is wrong with Harry's plan."

"You knew he would die." Lucius accused, as they walked.

"You think I was any happier about it? I spent years, years, spying on Voldemort, fighting against him, protecting Potter and all for Lily. And all for nothing, Lucius. I protected him from death so he could be set up to die at the opportune moment! If Lily was here-" He stopped speaking abruptly, turning his face away from his friend. Lucius watched him sadly, but remained silent.

When they found Harry, he was definitely dead.

They had him Portkeyed to St Mungos, where a Healer pronounced him dead, then transferred him to the Mortuary. He was laid down on a cold slab of metal, still in his pyjamas, and the Healer drew a white sheet over his body and face. "When would you like the funeral? We have to determine the cause of death first, but I think it plain obvious."

"His friend is in Australia on personal business. I will inform you the moment she arrives back in the country." Lucius said. He clenched his jaw, mentally adding, 'and as soon as Draco regains the will to live' onto the end of his sentence. Since the blond had calmed earlier that morning, he had sat stiffly by his mother's side. He only moved when forced, or dragged and he wouldn't speak or eat or drink anything.

Lucius and Severus left St Mungos. It was up to them to inform the others.

It was later that same day, towards the evening, that Harry's entire family and friends bar Hermione crowded around the metal slab. Lucius had half carried Draco there and Hermione was having problems getting a Portkey into Britain for her parents. None of them dared pull back the sheet. None of them wanted to make this nightmare a reality.

Luna reached out slowly, grasping a handful of the white fabric. She sang softly, swaying side to side, as she slowly uncovered their friend, inch by agonizing inch. "If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs, the bark on the tree was as soft as the sky's. As the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, he cries to the moon, if only, if only."**3** Her voice was soft and smooth and Neville found himself crying as he listened to it. Harry stared unseeing at the ceiling, still, his green eyes vacant. The white sheet fluttered to the ground.

Ron turned his back to them; he couldn't bear to look at him. Draco's reaction, however, was the worst. He gave another wail. He freed himself from his father's grip and climbed up on the slab to lie beside his mate. "Wake up," he begged, shaking the boy, "come back!"

But Harry didn't wake up.

_XXX_

August 3rd 1998.

He slowly came to consciousness. His eyes opened but they could only see the ground he lay upon. He thought it was strange. He remembered dying and falling on his back, but there he was, upon his stomach, panting with his face to the floor. He sat up, slowly, looking around with wide eyes.

He was alone, he could see. There was no one there but him, and even then he couldn't be perfectly certain that _he_ was there either. He didn't know where he was, but he knew he wasn't alive. But he was walking, his feet touched the ground, and he breathed and saw and felt. So he must be corporeal at the least, if not alive. Maybe he was in Heaven?

As he thought it, he heard a groan, a pain filled noise that made him tremble. Hearing that noise convinced him that he wasn't in Heaven. Perhaps Hell?

He walked toward the noise. He walked through a wall, not noticing where it was situated, and found himself on Platform 9 and ¾. Underneath a cloister of chairs, curled in on itself was a child. The child was making those tortured noises. Its skin was blackened and peeling and Harry wanted to reach out to the child but he was afraid to touch it. He looked around. There were others.

Over there he could see a woman, walking around with her hands out in front of her. Half her face was missing. There was a man, crawling on the ground, one of his legs having been severed at the knee. And more, so many more that Harry's heart hurt just by looking at them. He wanted to help them.

"You cannot help," a voice said.

Harry spun around, coming face to face with Albus Dumbledore. Perhaps this was a dream, because Dumbledore wouldn't have gone to hell? But he had never experienced anything like this, and he doubted Voldemort had either. So whose memory was he reliving?

"You're dead." Harry said at last. It took some effort to make himself speak.

"Yes."

"So… I'm dead?" He didn't really want to know. He knew the answer, but to have it confirmed would hurt. He didn't see Draco anywhere, and he hoped that Draco had gone straight to wherever it was Veela's believed they went after they died.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, a broad smile on his face, "that is the question isn't it? On the whole, my dear boy, I think not."

"Not?" Harry asked.

"Not," Dumbledore repeated.

"But I meant to die. I meant to kill myself and Voldemort."

Dumbledore smiled again, reaching out to squeeze Harry's shoulder. The brunette was shocked at how real Dumbledore felt. He was talking and walking and saying Harry wasn't dead, but Dumbledore had already admitted that he was. Harry thought dead people wouldn't have felt as _real_.

"And that will have made all the difference," Dumbledore answered him. "You meant to kill Voldemort Harry. The way to achieve that was to kill yourself."

"But you said I'm not dead."

"You are not."

"But I did kill Voldemort?" He stepped closer to Dumbledore, his eyes wide, afraid of the answer. He didn't think he could take it if he failed again.

"Oh yes! Yes, he is destroyed. Your soul is whole, and completely your own."**4**

"It's Draco's actually," Harry said softly.

Dumbledore smiled down at him sadly. "Yes I had forgotten about that. Such a shame, Harry."

Harry swallowed heavily, lowering himself down onto the nearest chair. "So he is dead then?"

"Who, my dear boy?" Dumbledore asked. His brow was furrowed with confusion as he looked at the young man before him. He sat down next to Harry.

"Draco. Is he dead, then?"

Dumbledore let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "No, good Merlin, no. Mr. Malfoy is quite alive."

Harry took a deep breath. He tipped his head back, eyes closed in relief. He took a deep breath, held it and then released it. He opened his eyes and turned to Dumbledore. "Then I'm ready to die." He said with conviction.

"I know you are, my boy," he said, "I know." Dumbledore held his hand over Harry's eyes, forcing his eyelids to close with his fingers. When Harry next opened his eyes, he was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

Everything was white this time. He thought he might actually be in heaven now, but again he was alone. Shouldn't his parents be here? Or an angel, or God, or something? Clouds maybe?

He sat up, frowning at the rigidity of his body. He was lying on some kind of metal bed on wheels. He climbed down off of it, arching his back to try and get rid of some of the stiffness, and walked towards the door. He had his glasses on still. He wasn't wearing his pyjamas anymore he noticed. Instead he was wearing a black silk shirt, black trousers and a heavy velvet black robe on top. It was rather warm, he thought, taking the robe off. He felt bad leaving it there, but he couldn't wear it in the heat. It was the middle of summer, for pities sake. What fool had dressed him in velvet? He was glad to be wearing the smart black shoes though. He hadn't been wearing any shoes when he died.

He opened the door and walked outside. A sign on the wall read 'St Mungos: Mortuary'. Harry winced. So he wasn't in Heaven then.

He walked through the Hospital, ignoring the screams and incredulous looks his presence caused. So he was dead, big deal, he thought uncharitably. They were Witches and Wizards! Surely they knew people could come back from the dead. Harry sighed, entering the nearest fireplace and throwing down a handful of floo powder. He wondered how the Daily Prophet was going to deal with his resurrection.

"Hogwarts," he called, "Headmistresses office!" He disappeared in a flash of green flame.

He fell out of the fireplace, coughing and sputtering. He wiped himself down, rubbing his face on his arm to wipe off the soot. In her chair, Minerva watched him with her mouth hanging open. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe or move. She sat motionless, wide eyed as he walked right passed her and out of the room.

Harry walked along the corridor, on his way to the dungeon. He was searching for Draco.

He heard sobbing. Curious he walked towards the sound. There was someone, outside of the Room of Requirement, hugging the opposite wall as he cried. Harry recognized the figure immediately, the blond hair was a dead give away, not to mention the feathery wings that sprouted from his back.

"Why here?" Harry asked softly.

Without looking up, Draco answered, "This was where I first kissed Harry."

"After we escaped the Feindfyre," Harry remembered.

"We?" Draco looked up, eyes widening as they landed on Harry. "You're alive? You wouldn't wake up, you wouldn't wake up. You're alive?" He babbled, hand pressing to his mouth as he tried to stop the words from flowing. "You're alive?"

"Yes, I am." Harry knelt beside the blond. Harry took Draco's face into his hands, and crushed their lips together. The moment they touched Draco could feel it. Fire raced through his blood, sparks went off behind his closed eyelids, and he could hear the thrumming of Harry's heart. His wings fluttered as Harry pulled him closer. Draco clung to him, tongue forcing its way into Harry's mouth, desperately tasting his mate. He could feel Harry's soul.

"He's gone?" Draco asked, pulling back. His hand moved to press against the scar that had already started to fade.

"He is." Harry breathed, cupping Draco's face in his hands. "He's finally gone."

"Then it's safe to bond with me again?" Draco asked, his pale face completely innocent looking. Harry flushed lightly, and nodded. Draco pulled them to their feet. Gripping Harry's hand tightly in his like a lifeline, he dragged them down the corridor. "Well, then, what are we waiting for?"

"You're incorrigible, you know." Harry muttered, but he followed the Veela happily.

Draco turned back to face him. His eyes were wide, his face flushed lightly and he was smiling wider than Harry had ever seen him smile. "I love you," he breathed, squeezing the hand he held.

"Don't ever change," Harry said softly. He tugged on the hand, stopping Draco and pulling him back against him. He kissed Draco again, holding him as tight as physically possible as their mouth moulded together. "I love you too."

Draco smiled at him then, pulling away with a blush. Harry's eyes softened as he watched the blond continue down the corridor, dragging Harry along behind him. Voldemort was finally vanquished, and Draco was alive.

Harry was alive.

All was well.

**The End**

**1** – Some of this is taken from Order of the Phoenix.

**2 **– Harry killed Voldemort by reflecting the Killing Curse off of the enlarged golden snitch (see chapter 3). The curse then hit Voldemort.

**3** – This is a rhyme, but I can't remember where I heard it or whom it was by.

**4** – Some of this is taken from Deathly Hallows.

* * *

And I bet you all were cursing me, thinking I was going to have a sad ending! Ha!

I would like to dearly thank every single person who reviewed, but as always, I want to especially thank those people who reviewed every (or almost every) chapter. Thank you for sticking with me till the bitter end. I especially dedicate this chapter to thrnbrooke, who seems to review at every site I am a member of. It's very nice!

Word Count: 75,166

Page Total: 157 A4.


	14. Soul Seeker Soundtrack

Firstly I would like to thank every single person who reviewed this fiction, especially those who tried to review every chapter. My heartfelt gratitude to all of you. I hope you stick around for my next story!

* * *

I have decided this fiction needs a soundtrack.

SOUL SEEKER

— A Harry/Draco Veela fan fiction.

*

01. **Silverchair** – **Freak**

_Yeah I'm a freak. _

_If only I could be as cool as you._

Theme tune to Harry's life. He doesn't have a very high opinion of himself, does he?

*

02. **Three Days Grace** – **Drown**

Once I had the world and now I got no one

_If I needed someone to control me, if I needed some one to hold me down,_

_I would change my direction and save myself before I drown._

This one is for Draco and his parents. Their fear and regret and anger over having to spend a year living with Voldemort, and then face the trials and questioning at the hands of the Ministry afterwards.

*

03. **Smile Empty Soul** – **Who I Am**

No one knows the way I feel

_The part of me I have to fight_

_Buried somewhere deep beneath my skin. _

Again, this is for Harry. It's more to do with the fact that Harry has to fight against Voldemort and himself, because Voldemort is a part of him now.

*

04. **Nickelback** – **Hero**

_Someone told me love could all save us, _

_But how can that be? Look what love gave us. _

_A world full of killing, and blood spilling, _

_That will never change, and they save that a hero can save us. _

For Harry. Pretty self explanatory.

*

05. **Scouting For Girls** – **Heartbeat**

_Doing all I can do just to be close to you._

_Every time that we meet I skip a heartbeat._

This one is for how Draco feels about his mate. Then later, how he thought his heart was breaking when Harry 'died'. I think it's a cute song.

*

06. **Ne-Yo** – **Stop This World**

_I'm light as a feather tonight, cause I can't feel the ground. _

_Someone let me down. I've never felt so high as I do now. _

_It's too good to be true. I don't deserve you._

More romance for Harry and Draco!

*

07. **Paramore** – **I Caught Myself**

Don't know what I want but I know it's not you

_Now when I caught myself I had to stop myself_

_From saying something that I should have never thought of you_

_I knew – I know in my heart it's not you._

This one is for Harry finally realizing he doesn't want nor love Ginny, despite the fact that she remains delusional for the rest of the fiction.

*

08. **Trapt** – **Headstrong**

_Back off I'll take you on, headstrong to take on anyone _

_I know that you are wrong. This is not where you belong. _

Harry is pissed off with Voldemort. He already has beaten the Dark Lord, but Voldemort is still ruining his life and it makes Harry angry.

*

09. **Emilie Autumn** – **Misery Loves Company**

_Do I need you? Yes and no. Do I want you? Maybe so._

_You're getting warm, you're getting warm, you're getting warmer. _

_Did you plan this, all along? Did you care that it was wrong?_

_Who's getting warmer now that I'm gone? _

This is for all of the people who love Harry, when they shouldn't. Because Harry belongs to Draco!

*

10. **Drowning Pool** – **Bodies Hit The Floor**

_Return, what for? Can't take much more._

_Nothing wrong with me, nothing wrong with me, nothing wrong with me_

_Something's got to give, something's got to give, something's got to give_

_Let the bodies hit the floor._

Battle music for all of the fight scenes… that admittedly could be a lot more detailed.

*

11. **Don Williams** – **Desperately**

_Desperately, loving you desperately. _

_When you're not here with me I get a little bit crazy. _

Again, this is for Harry and Draco, and their disastrous physical relationship. Though sex has nothing to do with the song.

*

12. **Tim McGraw** – **Live Like You Were Dying**

I asked him when it sank in if this might really be the real end

_And how's it hit you when you get this kind of news_

_And what'd you do?_

_He said I went skydiving. I went rocky mountain climbing._

When Harry learns he has to die, he wonders about how much time he really has left to spend with Draco.

*

13. **Alkaline Trio** – **Deathbed**

They tried everything but it was no use

_They tried everything and everyone but you._

Draco can't resurrect Harry. Harry will wake up in his own time, but they don't know that and can't understand why Draco didn't die with him. The song is about someone who was dumped, and 'died' of heartbreak. Only his ex-girlfriend could bring him back to life.

*

14. **Fiona Apple **- **If We Kissed**

I've never been defenceless I can't even make sense of this. What would happen if we kissed?

_Would your tongue slip pass my lips?_

This is for Harry and Draco's reunion scene.

*

If anyone else has a song they think will fit, I'd love to hear from them. Let me know the song, and the scene or chapter the song would go with. It's great to hear other peoples opinions about things. Bye, everybody. Bye, Doctor Nick.


End file.
